Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red
by Dis Lexic
Summary: A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun! OOC characters.
1. Chapter 1

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **Well, it was only a matter of time before I managed this, but I finally did it! An OC story inspired by a challenge. I won't list the challenge here, but if your interested its the New Powers challenge by DZ2. Anyway, lets get started! Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

You know, I often wonder if maybe I pissed someone off last time through. Then I look at my friends and realize that no, I most definitely didn't. Sorry, I'm getting WAY ahead of myself. Lets back up a bit and start from the beginning. It all started after I died from having a shelf full of Harry Potter merchandise fall on me. Not the most grandiose of deaths, although it does make me think that maybe Death has a sense of humor considering where I woke up. Anyway, after I ied from blunt force trauma, I woke up again in the body of a baby. Not what I was expecting. But lets roll with it. What I can't roll with is the fact that someone upstairs seems to be having a laugh at my expense. What makes me say that? Well, my Father can turn into a stag, my mother is known for a fiery temper and green eyes and my Godfather is literally a mutt. I am fucking screwed! Still, at least there was one good thing about all this...sort of. I can finally find out what it was that Lily used to protect Harry...me. This is confusing…

* * *

Or maybe not. Let me tell you, baby senses or NOT very good and even if they were, theres no way I'd be able to focus with all the shaking from Mum rushing upstairs with me making me dizzy, a ton of flashing lights and more. The only impressions I could get was that Mum put the blood red pendent she always wore around my neck and scribbled something onto the ground around my crib, frantically muttering to herself as she did. Once she was done, she stood and placed a palm on my forehead.

"Remember Harry, Mama loves you, dada loves you," said Lily, "Always remember, we're proud of you!"

A loud crash from the door made her glance over her shoulder.

"I'm out of time," she muttered, "Alright, I hope this works…"

She placed a palm on the thing she put around my neck and there was a flash of crimson light. She smiled at me one last time, before turning around and holding up her wand like a dueling sword. At the same moment, the door was blasted off its hinges and Voldemort swept into the room.

"Ahh, so you still intend to stand against me?" sneered the Dark Lord, "You don't honestly believe that you can kill me, do you? Surely that fool Dumbledore informed you of the Prophecy? The only one who can defeat me is that brat behind you and soon, even that threat will be gone."

"Sorry _Tom,_ I don't put much faith in Divination, especially the type touted by Dumbledore," said Lily.

Voldemorts face contorted in fury.

"YOU DARE…!" he started.

"Yes, I dare," said Lily, cutting him off, "Because I know exactly what you are. Your a coward, to afraid of Death to accept that its a part of life and so consumed by hate that you can't even see what a hypocrite you are. I'm not afraid of you Tom and I'll make damn sure that you can never hurt my son, in this life or the next!"

She raised her wand as a brilliant, crimson light began to pore from her body, matched only by the glow from the pendent she'd put around my neck. Voldemort actually took a step back, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

"No...what are you doing?!" he demanded.

"I'm protecting my Son," said Lily, "I imagine you've heard of Death Curses, yes?"

If possible, Voldemorts eyes widened.

"No, you wouldn't…" he breathed.

"Thats your problem Tom," said Lily as the light continued to build, "You never understand the power behind sacrifice. Now crawl back under the rock you came from! _**Ad Mortem!"**_

I'm not entirely sure what happened next because the backlash of energy from Mum's spell knocked me out, but the next thing I knew, I was waking up to Petunia's shrill scream and with Mum's pendent being nowhere to be found.

* * *

Fortunately, this wasn't a world where the Dursleys tried to literally beat the Magic out of me, instead preferring snide comments, verbal abuse and excessive manual labour to try and keep me down. Oh, Dudley was a right piece of work and at school, the fat git did his thing by being a thick headed bully who spread nasty rumors about me that did absolutely nothing. See, while Dudley was a cruel, small minded little boy, I played the part of a kind, if quiet, little boy who was more than happy to help out. It worked to turn the schools perception of me on its head, even after Vernon tried to convince everyone that I as the troublemaker. The fact I didn't exactly hide my intelligence (augmented by the addition of a high school and university education from last time through) meant that the teachers were raving about me and I managed to make friends with most of my class. The end result? Dudley was known as an idiot and a bully, despite his parents many attempts to divert attention elsewhere, usually by trying to claim I was framing him or some other shit.

* * *

Other than that, I tried to figure out what happened to the pendent Mum gave me immediately before she died. I'm not entirely sure why I was so determined to find it, but something told me it was important. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that Petunia had not been the one to take it, although she did grudgingly admit to its existence as something Mum got shortly after she started at Hogwarts, although she didn't know where from. That meant that it must have been taken by someone in the time between Voldies attack and me waking up on the doorstep. By my count, that could be any one of five people, none of which I had access to at the moment. With that in mind, I put it to the back of my mind for now and decided to focus on the here and now.

* * *

I spent most of my formative years having tremendous fun messing with my 'family' and doing what I could to figure out how to control my Accidental Magic. It wasn't easy, but I managed to control it enough to actually be useful. As a result, the years up to my 11th birthday fly by and before I knew it, I was finding my Hogwarts letter on the mat.

"Hmm, finally," I muttered as I slipped upstairs before the Dursleys could see the letter, "Now, what should I do now...I wonder if Petunia would be willing to get rid of me for the rest of the summer?"

With that idea in mind, I waited for Vernon to leave for work and Dudley to head off with his friends to add yet more crimes to his rap sheet before I approached Petunia with my letter. She was sat in the sitting room with a cup of tea and a sneer as I entered.

"What do you want?" she growled.

I held up my letter. Immediately, she went the colour of off milk.

"Ah, good, you know about this," I said, "Now, I don't like being here and you don't like me here, so how about we make a deal. You tell me where to go and I'll bugger off for the rest of the summer."

I watched as a number of different expressions crossed Petunia's face, before it landed on an expression of resigned acceptance.

"Fine," she growled, "Theres a pub on Charing Cross Road that normal people can't see. Thats the entrance to that world. If you ask someone inside, I'm sure they can help you more."

She stood and grabbed her purse, shoving a handful of notes into my hands.

"That should be enough to get you there and I'm sure your freakish parents left you something. Now get out and don't come back."

She sat back down and ignored me as I scampered out of the house and down the street.

* * *

One bus ride later and I had found the Leaky Cauldron. It was...pretty much exactly what I was expecting to be honest, a grimy, gloomy place that was sparsely populated with a few patrons at this time of the day, none of whom gave me a second look.

"Can I help you lad?" asked Tom the barman as I approached said bar.

"Um, yes, I was hoping you could help me…" I said.

Tom smiled, showing his lack of teeth and forcing me to hide a grimace.

"Ah, Muggleborn, right?" he asked, "Alright, come along."

He led me out the back and showed me how to open the gate to the Alley.

"Um, would it be possible for me to rent a room for the rest of the summer?" I asked, "Its just, my family…"

"I understand," said Tom, "My own family didn't understand when I received my Hogwarts letter, so I tend to give kids like you a good rate. Go and see the Goblins at Gringotts for some money then come back and we'll get you a room. You can use an owl at the post office to send your reply to the letter for free."

I blinked. I honestly hadn't been expecting that, but I guess its one of those things you never really think of.

"Thanks," I said.

"Not a problem son," said Tom, "Oh, but I'll need a name for the books."

I hid another grimace.

"Harry Potter," I said and stepped through the portal before Tom could react.

* * *

However, whatever bad mood I could have had was quickly washed away as I walked down Diagon Alley and my Harry Potter fanboy nature came out full force. It really was something else to walk down the actual Diagon Alley and take in all the magic that this place practically dripped in. I couldn't wait to have a proper look around some of the shops and see what I could find! By the time I reached Gringotts, I had a massive grin on my face. That grin was wiped off my face once I reached the bank however. Oh, it wasn't because of anything like meeting a Malfoy, instead it was because of the two creatures standing guard in front of the marble building. They...weren't what I was expecting. Oh, they were so short I was a full head taller than them, but they weren't the ugly, long fingered creatures I was expecting. Instead, they looked almost like miniature Humans, albeit with pointed ears and perfectly round eyes that appeared to be one solid colour, with only a slightly darker area indicating a slit shaped pupil. Both were wearing heavy looking armour and glowering at the Witches and Wizards that passed them.

"Those...are not Goblins," I muttered as I made my way into the bank.

I joined a que behind a sneering middle aged man in expensive looking robes who was grumbling about 'Damn Goblins making Upstanding Purebloods wait for Mudbloods'. I frowned. So, they were considered Goblins? Um, that didn't sound right…

* * *

Eventually, the belligerent man was served by the sneering 'Goblin' behind the desk and stomped off with a look on his face like he smelt something particularly bad.

"Next," growled the banker, "What do you want Wizard."

The word Wizard was spat like poison. I hesitated for a moment, before deciding to ask later.

"I understand that my family was rather wealthy," I said without beating around the bush, "I was raised by my non-magical family for most of my life and have only found out about my magic today. I would like to enquire into my family's assets."

"Name?" said the 'Goblin'.

"Harry Potter."

The 'Goblins' head snapped up and he glared at me. He slowly put down his pen and took a deep breath.

"Do you know how many people have come in here claiming to be Harry Potter?" he asked with an air of forced calmness, "Most who come claiming that attempt to show the scar as proof. Are you going to shove that in my face as well?"

I blinked. That was one of the things that set me apart from the normal Harry. I didn't actually have the scar, likely because of whatever Mum did to obliterate Voldie, although I did have a VERY faint mark on my head where I think I'd been cut by the backlash. It was just a normal scar though.

"What scar?" I asked.

The 'Goblin' narrowed his eyes and looked me up and down.

"Hmm, interesting," he muttered, "Very well, lets see if you truly are Potter. Come with me, Client."

The 'Goblin' paused, apparently waiting for something.

"Alright, lead the way Master...Hisebel," I said with a quick glance at the nameplate on his desk.

Hisebel nodded and led the way into a network of winding tunnels that I quickly became hopelessly lost in. Eventually, we reached a door with the name POTTER on the brass plaque screwed to the door.

"Place your hand on the nob," said Hisebel, "If you are a Potter, it will let you in. If not…"

He gave a nasty grin but didn't elaborate. I gulped, but did as I was told. I winced as I felt something pierce my finger, drawing blood, before the plaque glowed and the door unlocked with a click. Hisebels eyebrows shot up so quickly I'm surprised they didn't go shooting off into orbit. Apparently he hadn't believed that I was indeed the genuine article. Still, he didn't say anything and instead led me inside the room where he took a seat behind the desk and opened the file that rested on the desk.

"So, I take it that I do have money?" I asked as I sat down across from him.

"Oh yes, and lots of it," said Hisebel, "Your Trust Vault contains a total of 2000 gallons and is refilled yearly from the Main family Vault. I am afraid that I cannot give you any details on that until you come of age."

I nodded.

"Fair enough," I said, "How do I access my money?"

"You will need your Vault Key," said Hisebel, "However, judging from what you said earlier, it is not in your possession, correct?"

I nodded.

"Correct."

"Hmm, in that case, we will have to make you a new one and change the locks on your Vaults," said the 'Goblin', "I'm sure you understand the security measure."

I nodded.

"Of course," I said, "May I ask if this will cost me anything?"

Hisebel shook his head.

"Not this time as you could not possibly have been aware of your Keys location. However, any future updates will come with a cost of 50 Galleons, so please keep your key safe."

Well that was a nice surprise. Hisebel scribbled something on a piece of parchment and dropped it into a slit in the desk.

"There, we shall have your key ready for you by the time we get back to the main hall," said Hisebel, "Come along."

The 'Goblin' led me out of the office and back to the main hall where we were met by a smaller, younger looking 'Goblin' who handed Hisebel a key. He led me through a pair of large doors that lead into passages with rock walls, albeit carefully shaped ones.

"Hey, can I ask something?" I asked.

"If you must," said Hisebel.

"You guys aren't Goblins, are you?" I asked.

Hisebel nearly tripped over his own feet and spun around to fix me with a glare.

"And where do you get that idea from?" he growled.

"Lucky guess," I said, "So?"

"Humph," grumbled Hisebel, "Yes, technically, we're not Goblins. Goblins are not very bright Beastfolk with a penchant for shiny objects and explosions. They're good traders and Crafters, but the only type of bank I'd leave them in charge of would be an empty piggy bank. I have no idea how you British Wizards mistook us Lalafell for them."

"Lalafell, of course," I muttered.

"What?"

"Nevermind. Anyway, shall we go?"

Hisebel eyed me suspiciously for a moment, before nodding and heading off down the corridor.

* * *

After a ride that had me stumbling around for a few minutes and retrieving a bagful of cash, Hisebel handed me some papers and waved me off with slightly less hostility than he'd shown when I walked in. After making a mental note to look for something that would give me some idea of what sentient races called this world home, I headed out to do some shopping.

 **And done. Yeah, in case its not obvious, I'm drawing inspiration from FFOnline for this story. Take a stab in the dark at what it was that Lily gave Harry?**

 **Yeah, I turned the Goblins into Lalafell for no real reason other than why not? As for why they're referred to as Goblins by the Brits, well its a combination of typical Fanon purebloods being dicks and everyone else not knowing any better. As for why they stick around, I'll cover that later.**

 **Nothing else witty to say, so I'm going to sign out. Don't forget to leave a review on the way out!**


	2. Chapter 2

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **And here we go with some more bullshit. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2

After the bank, my first stop was the post office where I sent my reply back to Hogwarts, followed by the Trunk shop where I bought a multi-compartment trunk, an auto-shrinking charm and a featherlight charm to carry the huge amount of shit I was no doubt going to pick up. I also shelled out for an enchanted bookbag with similar enchantments. After that, I headed off to pick up stationary, potions supplies and a copper cauldron as the pewter ones still contained lead and I really didn't want to risk contamination. I also went to pick up a telescope and was pleasantly surprised to find that the shop sold Muggle style telescope in addition to the traditional ones. The shopkeeper told me that Muggleborns who knew there stuff tended to buy the former and Purebloods tended to buy the latter, although they were basically the same.

* * *

In the bookshop I bought the all the books on my list and, once I had them all, I started wondering around the bookstore, looking for anything that caught my eye and possibly something that would give me some idea of what to expect. I didn't find much, although I did stumble on a book on Beings that revealed that the other races that called Eorzea home were in fact a thing, albeit under different names and a fuck ton of racism from whatever dick wrote the book, forcing me to read between the lines to figure most of it out. I also discovered some books in a dark corner of the shop on various arts of both Physical and Magical in nature that revealed that the races weren't the only things from Final Fantasy present in this world, among which was some entry level texts on Thaumaturgy, Conjary and advanced Arithmancy that was basically an Archenists base text. Since they were dirt cheap, I picked them up and made a note to see if I could learn anything from them. Tossing around Black Magics would be as handy as learning how to heal and I liked the idea of being able to summon a Carbuncle. That might require a bit of study though. I'm not good at Maths at the best of times and Magical Maths is no different.

With that done my next stop was to get my robes where I was sorted out without to much trouble as it was a rather slow day for the tailor before heading out to my final stop, Ollivanders.

* * *

The shop was small and dusty, but I could feel the magic in the air singing against my skin.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. From right behind me.

I nearly jumped a foot in the air and spun around to see Ollivander stood behind me with an amused twinkle in his eye, along with...something else.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter."

It wasn't a question. I shivered as the old man scanned me with his luminous eyes, apparently searching for something. Whatever it was and if he found it or not, I have no idea.

"It seems only yesterday your Mother and Father were in here buying their first Wands," he said, "Your father favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration."

He leaned even closer.

"Your Mother on the other hand...ah, she was a special one," he said, "Yes indeed. I could sense, even back then, that she would take her Magical studies a step further than almost anyone else in history. I sense that same potential in you my boy."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to me, staring right into my eyes as he spoke, coming so close that he and I were almost nose to nose. I could see myself reflected in those misty eyes and I could smell his breath. Apparently he had eaten pickles recently. The odd and strangely normal scent served as excellent grounding for the strangeness of this encounter. I swallowed.

"Potential?" I asked, "What potential?"

Ollivander smiled faintly.

"You'll find out in time," he said, "For now, make sure you study the Black and the White as best you can."

I twitched, my fingers instinctively tightening around the strap of my bag.

"But for now, lets get you a wand," said Ollivander, suddenly turning around and heading over to the shelves, "I dare say you will require a new Focus sooner or later, but one of these will do for now. What is your dominant hand?"

"Um, my right," I said, trying to get my head around the sudden mental whiplash.

"Hold out your arm. That's it."

He measured me from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said:

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

I suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between my nostrils, was doing this on its own. I mean, I was sort of expecting it, but it was still pretty weird. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor, "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

I did as I was told and the desk burst into flame.

"Ah, I think not," said Ollivander as he put out the fire, "Next we have…"

* * *

What followed was pretty much what you'd expect, with random stuff happening every time I flicked the wand I was handed, ranging from floods to fires to turning the spindle chair into a snake that Ollivander promptly vanished until finally…

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

I felt my heartbeat speed up as Harrys wand was revealed and handed to me. I took it, eager to see what would happen when…

THPPPPPPP.

I blinked as the wand let out a sound like a deflating balloon and literally went limp in my fingers.

"My, I've never seen such an impotent reaction," said Ollivander, taking the wand off me that immediately snapped back to rigidity.

"Was that a dick joke?" I asked.

I was ignored as Ollivander went back into the stacks and returned with another wand.

"Ahh, now this is a special one," he said, gently caressing the box, "I never believed that I would have a chance to even use this."

He carefully opened the box to reveal a wand made of pale wood with red veins. Ollivander plucked the wand from its resting place and, almost reverently, handed it to me. The moment my fingers closed around it, the wand practically sang and the shop was lit with a brilliant, crimson light. I couldn't stop the gasp of awe that escaped as I felt my magic surge and dance, creating a powerful wind that managed to make even more of a mess of the already destroyed shop.

"Very impressive my boy," said Ollivander as he cleaned up with a wave of his wand, "I have never seen a reaction quite like that. Then again, I suppose I should have been expecting it from someone who could bond with an Elder and Phoenix Feather Wand."

My eyebrows shot up. My Wand was made of Elder? Well...that was interesting. Something told me that was going to get me in trouble in the future. I didn't voice those worries however, instead I paid the creepy old man and headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. I was tempted to go into the Magical Menagerie, but I honestly wasn't that interested in getting a pet right now. No offence to Hedwig or anything, but I didn't feel comfortable buying her when I knew she'd just end up locked in a cage whenever we were 'home'.

* * *

As I entered the pub, Tom glanced up and nodded, tossing me a key.

"Room 16," he said, "The menus in the room, as are breakfast times."

"Thanks," I said.

Tom nodded and smiled slightly as he turned back to polishing the glasses. I headed upstairs, found my room and immediately dove into my trunk to start devouring the books at a pace that would have made Hermione tell me to slow down a bit. I even made use of the fact I was in a high magic location and tried a number of spells, resulting in a number of explosions and botched Transfigurations that made me believe Tom made a point of enchanting the rooms against this very thing. Either that or he had some very efficient House Elves as most of the damage I inadvertently caused was gone the next morning. My attempts at Thaumaturgy certainly didn't help matters, but at least explosions were the point of most of those spells and I had plenty of opportunities to practice with Cure while I was at it.

* * *

Unfortunately, while I was doing reasonably well with Black and White Magic, the mathematical bases of Arcanum was causing me trouble. It was INCREDIBLY complex, to the point that I didn't even recognize half the symbols. Eventually, I gave up and dropped the book in my trunk. All I was doing with it was giving myself a headache. I'd see if I could find a use for it later, maybe after I had a better grounding in Arithmancy or something.

Considering all the stuff I was doing, it was no surprise that the remainder of the summer flew by. I didn't spend all my time in my room, but I made it a point to duck out of sight whenever I saw Hagrid or Mcgonagall come through. I had managed to fly under the radar so far and I really wanted to keep my anonymity a little longer.

* * *

Eventually, September the 1st rolled around and, after one last check that I hadn't forgotten anything, I shrank my Trunk and headed out, catching a cab to Kings Cross. I drew some odd looks as I made my way through the station, mainly due to my lack of obvious luggage. Despite the odd looks, I made it to the Barrier without incident and, after a quick glance around, stepped through onto the platform. I ghosted through the crowded platform, inwardly relishing the fact that I was still unknown. Exactly why that was I wasn't entirely sure since I was basically Harry Potter, even if I did lack the scar and glasses. Apparently I'd inherited more than just my eye colour from my Mum and my version was perfect.

Once on the train, it didn't take long to find a compartment and I settled in with a stack of books on various subjects. I would have done more practice of my more esoteric arts, but practicing with explosives in an enclosed space isn't very bright. Instead, I settled in to read a book on Magical crystals I'd found in a thrift store that was down right fascinating. I'd long realized that this world had more Final Fantasy than was normal, so I wasn't in the least bit surprised to find out that Materia were a thing. I was rather interested in possibly getting my hands on some to play with since they sounded rather interesting.

* * *

Shortly after the train started to move, I was interrupted by a timid knock at the door. I looked up and was mildly surprised to see the familiar head of bushy hair of a rather nervous looking Hermione Granger.

"Um, do you mind if I join you?" she asked.

"Not at all," I said, "Have a seat."

Hermione nodded in thanks and sat across from me after I helped her heave her trunk onto the luggage rack.

"Thank you," she said, "Um, I'm Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter," I said.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"I read them too," I said, "And its all complete bullshit."

Hermione looked scandalized.

"Well how else are you supposed to take the idea of a five year old facing down a dragon without a wand?" I said before Hermione could respond.

The girl shut her mouth with a click and looked thoughtful.

"Thats...actually a good point," she said.

"First rule of research, take everything you read with a grain of salt," I said, "History is written by the victor, so its often a good idea to check with multiple sources before jumping to conclusions."

Hermione blushed and squirmed in her seat.

"Sorry," she said.

"Its fine."

For a moment, we sat in silence as I went back to my book and Hermione shifted uncomfortably, the only sound being the occasional scratching of my pen as I took notes. Eventually though, she spoke up and it was a question that was pure Hermione.

"So, um, what are you reading?" she asked.

I glanced up at her.

"Its an entry level text on Arcanum," I said, "Unfortunately, its pure Maths and I suck at maths. I don't even understand half of this stuff, even with the Arithmancy textbooks I've been using."

Hermione frowned.

"Whats Arcanum?" she asked, "I've read that Arithmancy is using numbers to predict the future and craft spells, but I've never heard of Arcanum."

"Arcanum is basically what Arithmancy wants to be when it grows up," I said, "Its the practice of using Mathematics, Runes and symbology to manipulate reality. Its technically a form of Ritual Magic and doesn't require a wand. However, its also obscenely complex, so its not really that common anymore."

"Really?" asked Hermione, looking intrigued, "Do you mind if I have a look?"

I shrugged and passed her the tome.

"Sure, its no use to me anyway," I said, "I can't even figure out the most basic of spells."

Hermione eagerly took the book and began scanning the pages, occasionally muttering to herself. A couple of minutes later, she pulled a notebook and pen out of her pocket and started scribbling something in it. Curious, I leaned forwards to have a look, only to be forced to look away as the bizarre symbols she was drawing seemed to shift and move in unnatural ways under my gaze.

"There, that should do it," said Hermione once she was done, "Now, if I got this right…"

She pressed a fingertip to the page and the symbols began to glow. A moment later, a ball of light shot out and hit the sliding door, causing the glass to shatter into a million pieces. My jaw dropped as Hermione went red.

"Um, whoops?" she said.

 **Aaaand done. Before anyone starts having a go at me for using Hermione, stop right there! I LIKE Hermione and planned from the start to have her pe part of Harry's party. I am well aware that other people don't like her and thats fine. However, I don't want another avalanche of people asking me why I'm using her when shes such a bitch and annoying and so on. If you don't like my use of her, go read something else.**

 **Speaking of, you can probably guess what I have in mind for Hermione. To be honest, shes perfect for the Scholar/Summoner Job, and yes, I will be conflating them because I can. I wonder if you can guess who it was who held the Scholar/Summoner Soul Crystal in the past? Its not who you might think though.**

 **Harry will get a pet in time and it will be a bird called Hedwig. It won't be an owl though.**

 **Once again, I don't have much to say, so I'm gonna sign out. Don't forget to leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **And here we go with some more bullshit. Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

"Shut up," growled Hermione, her face still glowing red even though it had been a full five minutes since she'd broken and repaired the windows.

"I didn't say anything," I said, not even bothering to try and hid my mile wide grin.

"I was referring to that insufferably snickering," growled Hermione, glowering at me even harder.

I snickered again before sobering slightly, although I was still grinning.

"So, exactly how did you do that?" I asked, "I mean, I couldn't make heads or tails of it, despite having studied it for the past couple of weeks and you managed it in moments. How?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Not sure," she said, "It just sort of...clicked."

"Huh, thats...interesting," I muttered, "We should look into this. I wonder if you'd have an equally easy time with Thaumaturgy and Conjury?"

"What are those?" asked Hermione.

"Their other Magical arts," I said, "Thaumaturgy is basically combat magic, relying mostly on fire, ice and lightning, along with a few other supplementary spells to cause massive damage and Conjury is a form of magic that draws its power from nature and the Elementals and is mostly used to heal, although there are a few combat based spells. Like Arcanium, they don't need wands, although Foci are useful, and draw most of their power from the environment."

"That sounds interesting," said Hermione, "Lets have a look."

* * *

As it turned out, she had about as much talent in the arts as I did in Arcanium, in other words, none at all. Oh, she understood the instructions for the most part, but a lot of the basics of the arts were based around less grounded concepts than Mathematics, mostly about feeling the flow of Aether in oneself and the environment, a concept she just couldn't get her head around as easy as I could. Oh, she could probably learn it in time, just like I could probably pick up the basics of Arcanium, but it was doubtful that either of us would advance particularly quickly in the others apparent specialist field.

Once we were done experimenting, we settled in to chat and get to know each other better. Frankly, its amazing how similar we were, even neglecting the fact that we were both major bookworms. It turns out that Hermione is a bit of a Gamer, making me dearly wish I could fix some of the consoles Dudley had sequestered away in his second bedroom after busting them so I could use them. Maybe I'd figure something out after the school year…

* * *

Unfortunately, our pleasant conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. I looked up and narrowed my eyes slightly when I saw Ron stood there looking a tad uncomfortable. Now, I admit that I did not like Rons character last time through, although that may have been the result of too many fanfics. However, I had decided over the summer that it would be unfair of me to judge everyone I met on what I knew from my last life. I fully intended to give everyone a chance. Even *shudder* Malfoy.

"Um, do you mind?" said Ron, "Everywhere else is full."

I was tempted to call bullshit, but quickly reminded myself of my promise to take everyone as their own person and not a bundle of cliches.

"I don't," I said, "Hermione?"

"I guess not," said my new friend, although she didn't look to happy for whatever reason.

Ron barely glanced at Hermione as he entered the room and sat down next to her, his eyes raking my forehead. I narrowed my eyes.

"Thanks," said Ron and sat down across from me, "I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley."

"Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter," I said.

Ron let out a gasp and immediately started raking my forehead with more intensity. I had picked up a habit of wearing my hair pushed back with a headband after getting supremely annoyed by my uncontrollable fringe constantly getting in my eyes, meaning that my forehead was on full display. It also made me very glad that my scar was just that, a thin white line that was almost impossible to see under normal circumstances. After a moment, Ron scowled.

"Liar," he growled, jumping to his feet, "You can't be Harry Potter. You don't have the scar!"

I scowled.

"No, your right, I don't," I said, "I don't even know where people got the impression that I had a scar like that, but I don't appreciate being accused of lying for something so stupid. Now either sit down and shut up or get out and stop being a pain."

Ron went a funny colour, his jaw working as he glared at me. A moment later, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Well, that was rude," said Hermione.

"I wonder what his problem was?" I asked.

Hermione just shrugged and we went back to our discussion.

* * *

When the cart rolled around at lunchtime, I bought some food (thankfully, it didn't just contain sweets and she actually had a decent selection of sandwiches) and settled in to eat my lunch while Hermione pulled out her own her own packed lunch and gave the sweets I'd bought a filthy look.

"I'm not keen on sugary foods," she said when I asked, "My parents are dentists, so I grew up without them."

"Me to," I said, "My guardians don't really like me, so they tended to pass me over and the way they spoil my cousin and give him everything he wants has done an excellent job of making sure I eat healthy. Nothing wrong with indulging on occasion though."

Plus, the fact that chocolate still tasted like chocolate and not cardboard like it did when I died was an excellent treat for me.

With lunch done, we returned to our conversation about magic and our expectations of Hogwarts.

* * *

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. It was around this point when a knock on the door drew me from my book as a tearful looking Neville stuck his head in.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

"No, sorry," I said.

"Ohh, wheres he gone?" he moaned, looking close to tears, "I've got to find! He was a gift from my Uncle and…"

I quickly stood and put my hands on his shoulders.

"Calm down, theres no need to panic," I said, "Now, we haven't seen him, but I can help. Whats your toads name?"

"T-trevor," sniffed Neville.

"Right then," I said, drawing my wand, "Accio Trevor the Toad!"

There was an indigent croak and a yelp of shock from a compartment a short distance down the corridor as a fat, annoyed looking toad came zipping into my hand.

"Trevor!" gasped Neville in glee, holding out his hands.

I pulled a face as I deposited the slimy creature in the other boy's hand and waved my wand over my hand, vanishing the slime.

"Thank you!" gasped Neville, "You don't know what this means to me!"

"Oh, don't worry about it, I'm happy to help," I said with a grin, "I'm Harry by the way and this is Hermione."

"Hello," said Hermione with a polite smile and wave.

"Um, I'm Neville Longbottom," said Neville, looking a little awkward.

"Say, do you want to join us?" I asked, "We've got plenty of room and I'd love to make some more friends."

Neville blinked and looked surprised.

"Oh, um, sure, if you don't mind," he said.

"I wouldn't have asked if I did," I sai.

"I don't mind either," said Hermione, "Your certainly more polite than the last idiot…"

* * *

Five minutes later, Neville had retrieved his belongings and we were all engaged in a rousing discussion about houses.

"I think I'd like to be in Gryffindor," said Hermione, "It sounds the best and Professor Dumbledore used to be in it!"

"My Parents were in Gryffindor, but I think I'll end up as a Hufflepuff," muttered Neville, "What about you Harry? I bet you'll be in Gryffindor!"

I shrugged.

"Not sure, but I don't think I'd fit in with the Lions," I said, "Neither would you Hermione."

Hermione blinked.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because they'll likely mostly be like that Weasley brat," I deadpanned, "The House of the Brave sounds like the sort of place that Jocks go and I really don't feel like playing the uncool comic relief from a bad American high school movie."

"Thats...actually a good point," said Hermione.

"Plus, I don't think that deciding on which House we'd fit in best based on other people is a good idea," I said, "Who cares where our Parents went? We aren't them, we're our own people. If its decided that you would fit in better with the Puffs Nev, be proud of that. Theres nothing wrong with being hardworking and loyal after all and its not like you can't be a Hufflepuff and brave."

Hermione and Neville stared at me in surprise. However, before anything else could be said, the door opened and Malfoy, Crabb and Goyle walked in. The second they did, I knew we wouldn't be getting on. At all. The blond scanned the compartment with a look on his face that suggested he smelt something unpleasant as he glanced at Hermione and Neville. Then, he turned his attention to me.

"Is it true?" he said, "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Thats me," I said, eyeing the trio and wondering if these idiots were worth the time it took to tell them to shove off.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said Malfoy carelessly as he noticed where I was looking, "And my names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

He gave a vague nod in Nevilles direction that somehow managed to convey disdain without being obviously antagonistic and completely ignored Hermione.

"You know Potter, you should be careful who you associate with," he said, "Some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake mine, but I ignored it.

"If some Wizarding Familys are better than others, why in the world would I make friends with one who's name means 'Bad Faith'?" I drawled.

Malfoy went purple.

"As I understand it, old family names usually had a reason for coming into being, correct?" I continued, "So, what did your family do to get labeled as being bad faith?"

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either…"

He trailed off as I pulled out my wand and started idly rolling it between my fingers.

"Mr Malfoy, while I appreciate the warnings, they are entirely unnecessary," I said smoothly, "Now, if thats everything, I strongly suggest that you leave."

My voice was calm, but anyone with a brain would have been able to hear the warning in it. Malfoy apparently lacked a brain as he sneered and stayed put.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys?" he said, "We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to me. Before he could reach it however, I caught his wrist in a vice like grip and pointed my wand between his eyes. The big boy's face quickly turned white as he went cross eyed to keep the tip of my wand in view.

"I did a lot of extracurricular reading over the summer," I said mildly, "I really don't want to fight, but if you don't leave, I may do something you'll regret."

I released Goyle, who quickly backed off as Malfoy went purple.

"You'll regret this Potter!" he spat, before leaving and slamming the door.

"Was that really necessary?" asked Hermione.

"Unfortunately, yes," I said, "I know that type, they always keep pushing until they are clearly shown why they shouldn't push any more. Unfortunately, its also clear that hes the type who never learns, so I dare say he'll bother us again in the future."

"Harrys right," said Neville, "But even so, you should be careful. The Malfoys have a lot of power and could be dangerous if pushed to far. There are also rumours that Malfoy Senior used to be a follower of You-Know-Who."

I shrugged.

"I'm not really that worried," I said, "I'm willing to bet that the kids all talk and even if he did get his Dad to make trouble for me, I think I could turn it around relatively easily."

I grinned.

"But enough about that, we should get changed. We'll be arriving soon."

I was proven correct as the intercom crackled to life and the driver informing us that we would be arriving in five minutes. Neville and I quickly vacated the compartment while Hermione changed and she did the same for us and before we knew it, the train was pulling into the Station. I couldn't stop the grin that made its way across my lips as we joined the throng of students making their way off the train. This was gonna be FUN!

 **And done. Well, that was fun...sort of. To be honest, this feels like mostly filler and I can't even really think of anything that witty to say here. With that in mind, I'm just going to sign out and say please leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **And here we go with some more bullshit. Enjoy!**

Chapter 4

Hogsmead Station was dark and slightly chilly as we made our way off the train among our fellow students. The new crop of Firsties quickly started to congregate in one area, looking around nervously. Fortunately, Hagrid arrived before some of the more nervus looking students could work themselves into a state.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads, his eyes scanning the gathering of shivering shrimps before him.

"C'mon, follow me," he said, "Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, we followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Honestly, it wasn't to bad though, no worse than some of the paths around where I grew up the first time through. It was pitch black though, so that made keeping ones footing a tad hard. Nobody spoke much, being more interested in not slipping over. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!" and I can honestly admit that I was among them. Seeing Hogwarts for the first time in person was, pardon the pun, magical. It truly did look like the sort of place that magic was made. Hagrid gave us a couple of moments to take in the gorgeous sight before shepherding us into the boats at the waters edge. I ended up in one with Ron, Neville and Hermione. Once we reached the other side, Hagrid lead us up a long flight of stone steps to where Professor Mcgonagall was waiting for us.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, indicating to us with a huge wave of a hand.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here," said the Transfiguration Teacher, before turning to us, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose, before turning and vanishing into the Great Hall, leaving us to talk amongst ourselves. I mostly ignored the buzz of chatter between my classmates in favour of regulating my breathing. Despite knowing what was coming, I was nervous. I could happily ham it up with the best of them, but the idea of standing up in front of who knows how many young people, all of whom knew my name and face and already had unreasonable expectations of me was more than a little intimidating. I even managed to ignore the ghosts as they floated through talking loudly. It took Mcgonagall re entering the room and Neville poking me in the side to snap me out of it.

"We're ready for you now," said Mcgonagall.

She lead us through the doors and into the Great Hall which, I have to admit, took my breath away, despite the fact I knew what to expect. As with the first view of Hogwarts, there was just something about the magnificent room that simply could not be replicated by Hollywood.

It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting, tables laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting in front of the four massive hourglasses that served to count the house points. Professor McGonagall led us straight up towards the head of the hall, in full view of everyone else, hundreds of faces staring at us, shining like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, we reached the head of the room where the Sorting Hat sat on the four-legged stool, looking just as frayed and dirty as I was expecting. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched and a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song and bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.

"Told you," I muttered, earning myself a glare from Ron.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. Their was a moment's pause, before...

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. The Sorting continued in this vein, with Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis ending up in Slytherin before Hermione's name was called. Then things got...interesting.

The moment the hat touched her hair, it perked up and looked rather surprised. A moment later, it seemed to grin and opened its brim.

"SLYTHERIN!"

That went over about as well as you'd expect.

"WHAT?!" roared someone from the Slytherin table, "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! SHES A...MUGGLEBORN!"

It was clear from his slight hesitation that he wanted to say something else, but restrained himself.

"You are quite correct Mr Avery," said the Hat, turning on a stunned looking Hermione's head, "However, despite the common beliefs, pure blood is not actually a necessity to get into Slytherin and Miss Granger here is the single most well qualified individual to enter Slytherin in nearly a century."

He fell silent for a moment, before Hermione nodded and stood, removing the hat and heading over to join her new table. Naturally, she ended up being glared at, but a few people seemed more intrigued than annoyed.

With that out of the way, the Sorting continued and eventually reached Neville.

"GRYFFINDOR."

Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Then, at last...

"Potter, Harry!"

I stepped forward, ignoring the whispers that suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

The last thing I saw before the hat dropped over my eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at me. Next second I was looking at the black inside of the hat. For a moment there was silence. Then…

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

That was shouted out to the entire hall if the muttered reactions were anything to go by.

 _"Found something interesting?"_ I thought.

 _"I...what...how…?"_

 _"Not a clue,"_ I said, _"But if you tell anyone…"_

The hat shivered on my head as he picked up on what I had in mind for him.

 _"Oh don't worry Mr...Potter I suppose since thats who you are now, I am bound to keep any secrets I find in a student's mind. Hmm, this is fascinating and rather horrifying stuff. I assume you intend to do what you can to avert some of these disasters?"_

I snorted.

 _"That'll depend entirely on the sheeple,"_ I said, _"If they annoy me to much I'll leave them to their fate and bugger off to Japan or something."_

 _"Albus won't like that,"_ said the Hat.

 _"He can suck a fat one,"_ I said, _"I could care less what that crusty old man wants. If he wants Riddle dealt with, he can damn well do it himself."_

The Hat chuckled.

 _"I have a feeling that you're going to do a real number on the status quo,"_ it said, _"Now, lets get you sorted. I admit, I expected to have some trouble with you, but frankly, this is easy. Just like Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom, you are very much the sort of person the Founders would love. True, your a little less qualified than them, but even so, you're perfect for_ RAVENCLAW!"

The table in blue immediately erupted into cheers as I stood and moved over to join them, ignoring the howls of disappointment from the Lions and the strange look I was getting from Dumbledore. I absently returned an older boys handshake as I sat down in a free seat and glanced up at the Head table. As I did, I met Dumbledores eyes without meaning to. Before I could break eye contact, Dumbledore jerked slightly and looked away, rubbing his eyes. I blinked. I didn't have anything in place that could get that kind of reaction. I shrugged off the curiosity for now in favor of dinner. I could deal with Dumbledores apparent inability to read my mind later. Right now I was more interested in filling my belly.

* * *

Eventually, the food faded away and Dumbledore stood to do his announcements. Don't go in the Forbidden Forest, no magic in the halls, certain death, etc, before having us sing the school song. I did to the tune of Still Alive. No idea why, it just seemed appropriate. With the torture to our eardrums done, we were sent off to bed like good little children.

* * *

It took surprisingly little time to reach Ravenclaw tower and the prefect turned to face the gaggle of first years following her.

"Unlike the other Houses, our Common Room doesn't have a password," she said, "Instead, to get in, you must answer a riddle. If you can't get the answer, you'll need to wait until someone comes along who can."

She turned and knocked on the door. The knocker animated and spoke in a smooth, feminine voice.

"What herb cures all ailments?" it asked.

"Thyme," I said before anyone else could say a thing.

"Correct young Warrior," said the knocker and the door swung open.

A few people shot me curious looks as we trooped inside, but mostly everyone just wanted to go to bed. The common room was pretty much what I was expecting, a round tower room with a large number of study desks and bookshelves, a statue of a woman who could only be Ravenclaw in an alcove against one wall and a number of comfy looking blue armchairs near the fire. The room was painted in cheery blues and the wood was a soft looking white colour. Above the fireplace was a painting of a beautiful woman with tanned skin, blue eyes and a nasty looking scar over one eye sat at a table in what looked like a bar with a map pinned to the table with a pair of daggers in front of her. She had long, black hair tied back under a green bandana and was wearing simple chest bindings around her breasts, elbow pads, fingerless, leather gloves, dark green pants and was barefoot. A pair of sharp looking knives with curved blades were sheathed at her hips and black tribal tattoos and knife scars covered her visible skin. Compared with the elegant and comfortable room, the painting of the rough looking woman was glaringly out of place.

The woman in the painting looked up, as if sensing my gaze, and our eyes met. Despite the fact she was just paint on canvas, I couldn't stop myself from taking a step back under the intensity of her gaze and got the urge to check my pockets.

"Are you OK?"

I turned to see that everyone in the room was looking at me strangely.

"Y-yeah, fine," I said, "Um, who exactly is that?"

The perfect glanced at the painting and frowned.  
"I have no idea," she said, "No one I've asked seems to know either and a few people have mentioned how creepy she can be. No one can remove it though, so we'll just have to put up with it."

"Is that a fact?" I muttered, eyeing the painting with new interest.

Now I was really curious. I wonder if anyone's ever just asked the painting who she was? Considering how lacking in logic Wizards tended to be, I suspected it was worth a try at least.

I yawned widely. However, that would have to wait for a bit. I was exhausted and was looking forwards to sinking into my bed.

That night, I would dream of fighting powerful monsters alongside my friends, along with intermittent flashes of red clothes and a glowing crystal in a void.

* * *

Hermione

Down in the dungeons, Hermione's night wasn't quite as peaceful. As you might expect, after Professor Snape had greeted everyone and layed down the law, she had found herself being targeted by the Pure Blood idiot faction in the Dungeon, intending to 'show the Mudblood her place'. She had responded by blasting the leader with the same bolt of energy she'd created by accident on the train.

Hermione knew how to read people, it was a talent that she'd always had and had been nurtured by the years of bullying at the hands of her peers and that talent had allowed her to deduce that most of the House didn't actually care that she was a Muggleborn and were just waiting to see if she was worth befriending. She needed to make a good showing to prove her strength to get the respect of those who were nutrail and the fear of those who were stupid enough to buy into the Pureblood dogma. That said, she was glad that the Slytherins got their own rooms.

"This is gonna blow," she groaned as she dropped onto her bed, "Why did I let the Hat talk me into this?"

"Oh, don't feel so down my dear, its not that bad!"

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected voice and shot upright, her fingers groping for her notebook. However, she paused when she saw that the source of the voice had been the formally empty picture frame next to the door. The formally blank background of a map of the local area and an empty chair was now occupied by the occupant of the large painting above the fireplace in the Common Room lounging in the chair.

He was a rather handsome young man who, oddly enough, reminded her of Harry, despite the fact they looked nothing alike. Despite his young age, his hair was pure white and his eyes, behind round glasses, were bright green, not unlike her neighbours cat. Not helping the comparison with the feline was the catlike ears sticking out the top of his head and long, fluffy tail that was waving lazally below the chair from under his maroon robes. A large, leather bound book was hanging from his belt in a specially made holster.

Hermione had read a little about the Miqo'te, the cat-like race that worshiped the sun and moon and held a great deal of respect in ancient magical society. Of course, these days they had a lot less respect and tended to be regulated to the shady side of life, which didn't help their reputations. Considering their reputation and the reputation of Slytherin house, seeing a painting of one in the House common room was rather a shock.

"Um, who are you?" asked Hermione.

"Ah, such funny things names," said the Miqo'te, "They have so much power to change things and shape the world. You may call me K'rhid Tia for now."

"Thats not your real name, is it?" asked Hermione.  
"Actually, it is," said K'rhid with a grin that showed off his fangs, "However, I do have another name that you might recognize. I'll keep that to myself for now thought."

Hermione sighed. This was going to be...interesting.

"Alright, what do you want?" she asked.

K'rhid's smile vanished and he lent forwards a rather odd glint in his eye.

"That was an impressive trick you pulled off in the Common room," he said, "The spell was a little sloppy, but impressive for someone who only recently started studying Arcanium. Tell me, how long have you been studying the art?"

"I only found out about it this morning," said Hermione.

K'rhid's eyebrows shot up.

"Really?" he asked, "My, your talent is incredible! The fundamental basics of Arcanium are simple enough to grasp, but to be able to create even a basic Grimoire and cast a spell, even one as simple as Ruin after a single day's study...the last person to manage that was, well, me!"

Hermione blushed at the unexpected complement.

"Um, thanks," she said.

"So tell me Miss Granger," said K'rhid, his eyes sparkling enough to make Dumbledore feel inadequate, "How would you like to learn what an Arcanist can really do? I have no doubt that someone with your talent could go far with just books, but with a teacher…? You could become the single greatest Arcanist ever to live!"

Hermione didn't even have to think about it.

"When do we start?" she asked.

 **And done. Phew, that was a pain in the arse to finish! Oh well, its done now.**

 **I was tempted to add in a scene with Neville, but I decided to hold off on that for a short while.**

 **Hmm, I wonder what relevance the paintings have. As if you can't figure it out! I bet you can also figure out why I had Hermione end up in Slytherin, right? It'll make for some interesting chaos, thats for damn sure!**

 **Anyway, once again I find myself unable to come up with anything witty, so I'll just sign out. Don't forget to leave a review on the way out!**


	5. Chapter 5

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **I'm sorry this took so long, but real lifes being a bitch and FF14 is just to fun not to play. Mostly the former though. I work in a hotel and, since its getting closer and closer to Summer, you can bet that I'm in for some very long and tiring days, so updates might slow down dramatically since I won't feel like writing after seven hours of cleaning rooms. Just a quick heads up, I'm not even going to attempt to write Hagrids accent. Enjoy!**

Chapter 5

"What is THAT?!" I spluttered, blinking rapidly as my head and eyes did peculiar things to each other.

During breakfast the next day, I had headed over to the Snake Pit to make sure Hermione was OK and had found her alone (as expected) and scribbling something in a notebook (again, also expected). What hadn't been expected was for whatever she was working on to apparently have more dimensions than it should and seemed to be writhing around on the page. I was suddenly very glad that I hadn't eaten yet. A quick glance up and down the table revealed that more than a few Slytherins were looking a little green around the gills as well and kept shooting Hermiones notebook wery looks.

"Good, isn't it?" said my friend cheerally, "I've started learning the basics of Arcanium from a painting."

"Um, Hermione, drawings on paper should not have that many dimensions!" I said, pointing at a drawing that looked like something MC Escher, Picasso and Van Gogh would draw after a night on the town with hard booze and bad LSD.

Hermione frowned and picked up her book, turning it and making the drawing do things that shouldn't be possible. I took a deep breath as I tried to keep my stomach where it was.

"I know, I just can't seem to get it right," she said, "My teacher said I'm coming along well, I just need to figure out how to finish this drawing and solve this equation before I can continue."

She flipped through a couple of pages to a page full of symbols that I think was some kind of obscenely advanced equation. I blinked a couple of times and shook my head.

"I don't even know what half of those symbols mean," I deadpanned.

I gave Hermione a slightly suspicious look.

"Your teacher wouldn't happen to be a six foot lizard with habit of making people say 'um?', would she?"

Hermione frowned.

"No, hes a painting of a Miqo'te."

"Oh, well, thats alright then," I said, "Anyway, so long as you're alright, I'll see you later."

Hermione nodded as she went back to her drawing, humming quietly to herself as she did horrible things to the Universe and I went to see if I could stomach any food. A short time later, there was a loud sound of someone vomiting and I turned to see that Malfoy had apparently stolen Hermione's book, taken one look at the drawing, and vacated his breakfast all over his shoes. I half expected Snape to swoop in, but judging from the look on his face, he'd already had a close encounter with Hermione's art project and didn't fancy another. Instead, he simply walked over, vanished the mess and hustled his Godson out of the Hall with everyone staring after them in confusion.

Fortunately, the bell rang shortly after so no one else got exposed to the Eldritch text Humans aren't meant to read and instead were condemned to a much fouler fate. Lessons. Shudder.

* * *

But I'm joking...mostly. As a general rule, the lessons were tolerable, once we got past the initial introduction phase, with the exception of History, Potions and Transfiguration. The first two go without saying, but the latter was rather unexpected. Oh, the lesson itself was fine, but we shared it with the Gryffindors and thats pretty much all I need to say. Neville was fine and he was quickly becoming a good friend (although I did need to verbally beat the anti-Slytherin bullshit out of him to get him to stop looking like a deer in the headlights around Hermione), the problem came from a combination of Ron being...Ron and Mcgonigal of all people.

I'm not entirely sure what was up with the Head of Gryffindor, only that she kept shooting looks at me that suggested that she didn't know quite what to think of me. I also occasionally caught a glimpse of disappointment in her eyes. I have a horrible feeling that she was one of those people who thought I had to be an exact clone of my Parents and was somehow disappointed that I didn't fit the exact mould they had in mind for me.

Ron on the other hand was so annoying that I was getting more and more tempted to start using him for target practice. The smug, self centered git seemed to be under the impression that we were friends and kept sitting next to me in any lesson we had together and droaned on and on about nothing while I was trying to concentrate on the work. He even had the nerve to tell me to stay away from Hermione! Fortunately, I didn't shair many lessons with him and those I did I made a point to sit at the end of the bench with Neville on my other side.

Charms was also rather interesting, although that was mostly because Flitwick was blatantly just a pure blood Lalafell. He was a brilliant teacher though and I found myself thoroughly enjoying his lessons.

Other than that, the only other bit of interesting fluff in lessons worth mentioning happened in my first potions lesson. We shared the lesson with the Puffs, so there was no risk of being exploded or sabatarged and I was hoping that Snape would at least be civil.

* * *

Snape started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at my name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new...celebrity."

I rolled my eyes. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Everyone in the room seemed to be on tenterhooks, ready to learn and try and prove that they weren't a bunch of hard headed morons.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, making me jump slightly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"There are a few potions that use those ingredients, but the most obvious is the Draught of Living Death," I said, "Its a sleeping potion so strong that it places the drinker in a state of suspended animation until the antidote is administered. According to legend, its what Merlin gave to Arthur so he'd be able to return when England needs him."

Snape looked surprised at my complete answer, but quickly shook it off and went back to sneering.

"Hmm, perhaps fame is good for something," he said, "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I would hope most Potions sets as it is an excellent general antidote," I said, "However, its source is the stomach of a goat."

Now Snape looked impressed, although he quickly suppressed it behind another sneer.

"So, you actually thought to a book before coming, eh, Potter?" he said, although his sneer now appeared a tad forced, "Very well, lets see if you know this. What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same plant and are also known as aconite," I said, "It is a highly toxic plant that is especially deadly to Werewolves and is one of the main ingredients to the Wolfsbane potion."

"Correct again," said Snape, "So, I see you did study for this lesson after all."

He gave one last sneer and turned away to begin the lesson. It seemed that he was far from pleasant, even if I had proven that I wasn't a moron. That said, the lesson was reasonably quiet and, although Snape seemed to be looming over me far more than strictly necessary, he gave a reluctant grunt of acceptance when I handed my finished potion in at the end of class. I decided to book a hasty retrieve before he could say anything else.

* * *

"Urrg, I'm glad thats over," I grumbled as I headed towards the Library to get a head start on my homework.

Before I could leave the Great Hall however, a barn owl swooped through the doors and dropped a letter at my feet. I picked it up and frowned slightly at the sight of the chicken scratch handwriting on the front.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week._

 _Hagrid._

I frowned deeper. I haven't interacted with the Half Giant since the first night at Hogwarts, if it can even be called an interaction, so receiving a note from him made me smell a rat, especially since he apparently knew my schedule. On the other hand, Hagrid wasn't really the type to deliberately do anything to hurt...anyone really. Plus, I could just be being paranoid. I sighed.

"Oh screw it," I muttered, "I might as well and I might even get some more stories about my Parents in the bargain."

I turned and out the doors towards Hagrids hut.

"Where are you going?" said a familiar and hated voice.

I stifled a growl and turned to the red headed pest.

"That is none of your business," I growled, "Now will you please leave me alone?"

I spun around and stalked out the doors, once again suppressing a growl as the pest followed me.

"Aw don't be like that mate," said Ron, "I've been worried about you ya know. You spend all your time studying and you've been hanging out with Slytherins. You can't trust them, bunch of slimy snakes."

"Right, thats it," I growled as I stopped in place and whirled around, "Listen closely you ignoramus. Who I'm friends with and what I do in my spare time is none of your business so kindly keep your nose out before something bites it off."

"But Harry, we're best friends!" said Ron, "I'm just worried about you!"

I stared at him, trying to figure out where in the hell the idiot had got the idea we were friends when I couldn't stand to be around him.

"Ron, we are not friends," I said, "Truth be told, I don't even like you. I find you to be unpleasant, aggravating and to be little more than a pain in the ass. I was perfectly willing to simply ignore you, but since you seem to be fixated on me, I'll tell you straight out. Leave me alone or else you'll find out exactly what I've learnt in my reading."

I turned on my heel and marched away in the direction of Hagrids hut. Hopefully that would get Weasley off my case.

* * *

I was still feeling rather annoyed when I arrived at the Hut, but that annoyance quickly vanished to be replaced with utter shock when I saw an addition I hadn't been expecting. Beside Hagrids Hut was a large pasture with a stable where Hagrid was stood, gently brushing down the feathers of one of the creatures that called the pasture home. I stared for a moment, before rubbing my eyes and looking again. Nope, still there.

The creatures in question were large birds the size of a horse, with yellow plumage, long necks, large wings and three toed feet. Right, why the hell not? If Gringotts could be run by Lalafell and Hermione taught to do horrible things to the Universe by a painting of a Miqo'te, why can't Hogwarts have its own flock of Chocobo? Makes perfect sense to me.

I sighed, vaulted over the fence and made my way over to the hulking man where he stood near the stable at the far side of the field. As I approached, the Chocobo Hagrid was tending to looked up and cocked its head on one side as it looked at me with intelligent, dark brown eyes that looked more like a horses than a birds.

"Kweh?"

Hagrid glanced up at the birds squawk. As he did, I paused again as I saw Hagrid properly for the first time in daylight. Instead of a thick, tangled mass of hair, Hagrid's thick beard and mane of hair was well groomed and his skin beneath it was a very pale shade of gray that wasn't natural in either Human or Giant. He was wearing a simple, white shirt that was open to reveal a powerfully muscled chest with a fair few scars across it and the sleeves rolled up, revealing equally scarred arms and tattoos, including one of a black longboat on a red field. His trousers were black leather and his boots were thick sailors boots. Apparently, he wasn't a Half-Giant and instead was a Roegadyn. I wonder how this will affect things?

"Um, hi," I said.

"Its nice to finally meet your properly Harry," said Hagrid, "I would have invited you down sooner, but this Chocobo got hurt and, well, I'm sure you can imagine."

I blinked. Aside from his thick accent, Hagrid was remarkably well spoken. Now this was VERY interesting. I glanced at the Chocobo and, sure enough, its wing was bandaged.

"Can't it be treated magically?" I asked.

Hagrid shrugged.

"Not really," he said, "Chocobo are resistant to Wanded Magic and there aren't any White Mages in the country at the moment."

I blinked.

"Um, I can use White Magic," I said, "I'm not really a master, but I can cast the basic healing spells."

Hagrid raised an eyebrow and indicated to the Chocobo.

"If you think you can, your welcome to try," he said, "Even a low level White spell will do wonders for her."

I nodded and pulled out my wand. White and Black magic wasn't like the Magic typically taught at Hogwarts. There were no faux Latin incantations, no wand movements and its was nearly impossible to use Arithmancy to unravel the spells. Instead, to use them, you simply had to will it to work and channel the power. The more you used them, the more they became engraved on your Magic and more powerful and easier to cast they became. That was also the phenomenon that led to things like Astral Fire, Umbral Ice and Secret of the Lily. That said, most people used simple mnemonics to help focus on the effect that they wanted. There wasn't much use in casting Cure on your opponent in a duel when you wanted Aero after all. I took a deep breath, reached for my Magic and waved my wand over the Chocobo.

" **Cure,"** I whispered.

There was a shower of green sparks and the golden birds damaged wing glowed faintly for a moment. The Chocobo blinked and moved its bandaged wing slightly, then spread it as much as it could with the bandages in place. After a moment of moving its wing experimentally, the Chocobo gave a happy chirp and started nuzzling my cheek. I chuckled and started rubbing its head, getting another happy chirp.

While this was going on, Hagrid checked the bandaged wing and nodded in approval.

"Impressive," he said, "You completely healed the injury. It was rather minor, but considering how short a time you've been studying the White, its still very impressive."

He smiled at me.

"Your a lot like your Mother," he said, "She did much the same thing when she started here. Ironically enough, the Chocobo she healed was this ones dam."

I looked over at the large Roegadyn in surprise, not stopping my petting.

"You knew my Mother?" I asked.

"Aye," said Hagrid with a fond smile, "Formidable woman that one was, even at just 11 years old. Talented to. There aren't many who can master both Black and White magic without a teacher. Apparently you've inherited her talent in the White at the very least."

I swallowed.

"Could you...tell me about her?" I asked.

Hagrid smiled again.

"Of course lad," he said, "Come on, lets go inside and have some tea."

I nodded and gave the Chocobo one last pat, before following the much larger man inside his hut.

 **And done. Well, that was rather interesting, no? Plenty of new revelations and changes to the story and characters, plus, I actually have some things to talk about! With that in mind, lets get started.**

 **Yes, that was a reference to Taylor Varga. I actually have an Omake in the works along those lines. No, I have no plans to include anything else like that, although Hermione's horrible drawings and messing with reality through drawings and maths will be a thing. I didn't actually intend for that to happen, it just did and then I couldn't resist keeping it in.**

 **Flitwicks a pure blooded Lalafell because it works better than having him be a halfblood. I don't even know if thats possible.**

 **Why does Hogwarts have its own Chocobo flock? Because why not. Plus, I needed to have a method for Harry to get his Companion somehow.**

 **Hagrid was the victim of a coin toss. I originally intended for him to be the loveable half-giant we all know and love, but then I had this thought and I wasn't sure which to do. In the end, I flipped a coin and it come up Roegadyn and, as a result, he'll be completely different. Still a friendly, lovable fella with a penchant for dangerous creatures, but he's also a formidable warrior.**

 **I hope my explanation of how Black and White magics work in this world makes sense. Obviously, the other Magical Paths and jobs work differently, with Arcanists using their Grimoires as foci and Astrologian's utilizing their cards and Star Globes to help shape their magic. Red Mages are essentially the same as Black and White Mages since their power comes from a very similar method.**

 **And with that, I'm done. Don't forget to leave a review on the way out!**


	6. Chapter 6

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **And here we go with some more bullshit. Enjoy!**

Chapter 6

After the first week, things quickly settled into a routine of classes, studying in the library with my friends (while making sure not to look at Hermione's rapidly filling notebook. Her drawings were swiftly getting more and more disturbing as her studies into Archanium continued), practicing with Black and White magic and visiting Hagrid and my feathered friend who had taken quite the liking to me. I also spent time helping Neville improve his confidence. It was...slow going, even with Hermione helping me.

"Oh for goodness sake, this is intolerable!" yelled Hermione after Neville once again failed to properly cast the spell we were working on, "Your pronunciation and wand movements are perfect and you clearly know the material from your written work, so why in the world can't you cast the spells properly?!"

We were in an abandoned classroom we'd found and claimed as a handy study space. It was especially useful because it looked like it used to be a dueling classroom and had a fully Warded and equipped training circle, complete with enchanted dummies.

"Its probably because I'm practically a Squib," said Neville sadly as he dropped his wand on the side table and slumped in his chair.

I snorted.

"Nev, you've got more raw power than I have," I said dryly, "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

Using White Magic made one more sensitive to living Magical sources, a trait that allowed White Mages to find and deal with corrupted Elementals and the like. My senses weren't as sensitive as a raw White Mage due to my practicing of Black Magic at the same time, so I couldn't detect Elementals, but I could detect how much power other Magicals had at their disposal. Neville's power level was, frankly, rather absurd, ranking above even some Third Years, dwarfing my own. In fact, he had so much power that I'm surprised he hasn't burnt out the Wand he was using by forcing enough power through it to force the spells to work. Had I been limited to Wizarding Magic, he would be able to completely flatten me in any duel we might have. Fortunately, we were friends and I had the advantage of having access to Black Magic, which basically gave power levels the finger thanks to its natural Buffs and regular use of Transpose.

I reached across from where I was sitting and picked up Neville's wand, turning it in my hands as I examined the scratches and pits in the wood. It was clearly well looked after, but it still showed signs of many years of use.

"Neville, whose wand are you using?" I asked, "This isn't a new one."

"It was my Dads," said Neville, "Gran gave it to me when I started school. She said that if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me."

I nodded.

"Thought so," I said, "This is your problem Nev, your using a wand thats not properly bonded to you. As a result, your Magic is having to fight to get through the Wand. I'm honestly surprised you haven't burnt this one out yet."

I handed the wand back to a surprised looking Neville.

"Write to your Gran and tell her that you need your own Wand," I said, "Ollivander told me that the Wand chooses the Wizard, not the other way around. If you keep using your Dads, your either going to damage it beyond repair or damage your magic."

Neville went a bit of a funny colour at that and looked at the wand as if he expected it to bite him.

"I think I'll do that," he said, "Right now."

He hustled out of the room.

"Was any of that true?" asked Hermione as soon as he was gone.

"The bit about him burning out the wand was," I said, "I'm not sure about the other one, although that was the impression I got from reading between the lines. The book on Wandlore I read wasn't particularly clear on the issue, it just mentioned that it was a possibility."

"Fair enough," said Hermione, "Hey, you wanna see something cool?"

I gave her a wary look. Last time I'd said yes to a question like that I'd ended up with a migraine for three hours thanks to the...THING she'd drawn.

"This isn't something that Man wasn't meant to see, is it?" I asked.

Hermione pouted.

"Of course not," she said, "And I don't like how you refer to my beautiful drawings!"

"The same beautiful drawings that make people upchuck their breakfasts?"

Hermione puffed her cheeks up in annoyance.

"Yes, its very rude," she said, "Well?"

I sighed.

"Fine, just so long as I don't have to go to see Pomfrey again."

Hermione grinned brightly and opened her book at a marked page. I stiffened slightly, but instead of showing me whatever horrific image she'd concocted, she started scribbling with a quill she pulled out of nowhere and coloured lights began to appear around her. A moment later, there was a flash of light and an Emerald Carbuncle appeared in front of her. The little, fox-like creature shook itself, looked around for any threats and, upon finding none, hopped into its Summoners lap and curled up.

"Huh...thats cool," I said as I leant forwards to examine the creature.

Actually, calling it a creature was technically incorrect. It wasn't alive in the most literal sense, instead it was nothing more than a mass of Aether given form and what was essentially a very advanced AI by Hermione's use of symbols and Mathematics, all made possible by what was essentially folding space and creating tiny links to alternate dimensions to create a magical Quantum computer. At least, thats what I was able to figure out from Hermione's long winded explanation of the spell. Apparently most Arcanist spells were derived from the manipulation of the fabric of Space and apparently required a very special type of mind to use properly, a mind Hermione most definitely possessed.

"Isn't it?" said Hermione, "I finally managed it last night. Apparently it means I'm now considered a novice Arcanist. The next step is learning how to absorb Aether to power my other spells."

"I'm sure you'll manage it in no time," I said with a grin.

"What about you?" asked Hermione, absently petting the magical construct.

I shrugged.

"I'm going along fine," I said, "I figured out how to cast Thunder recently, but its rather hard without a tutor. The books I have are pretty comprehensive, but still…"

"They can only get you so far," said Hermione.

I nodded.

"I need to see if I can find a proper teacher at some point," I said, "I think I'll ask at Gringotts over the holidays. The books will work fine for now anyway."

"Good idea," said Hermione.

From there, the conversation turned to school work and we got started on our homework.

* * *

A few days later, the notice for Flying lessons appeared on the noticeboards, resulting in a landslide of tall tales from people in every house about how good they were on brooms, much to my annoyance. The only good thing was Neville being quietly taken out of school for a few hours before returning with a new wand that caused him to immediately jump from the bottom of the class in practical work to the top, much to the shock and ire of some (read, Malfoy and Ron, the latter of which was becoming a serious pain in the neck). As a result, the other boy was walking around with a massive grin on his face.

Said grin only increased in size after a brief look of utter shock on the day of our first flying lesson as he opened the parcel he'd received from home. Like most days, we were sat at the Ravenclaw table so we could chat without getting harrassed by either Ron or one of the morons in Slytherin.

"I don't believe it," he breathed as he gently lifted a pale blue crystal pendent out of the box.

"Whats that?" asked Hermione.

"It was my Dads," breathed Neville, "An Heirloom of the Longbottom family...I can't believe Gran sent me this!"

I didn't look up from my breakfast as I grabbed the wrist that had reached past me to make a grab from the pendent.

"Don't," I said.

Malfoy (because who else could it be?) sneered and opened his mouth to say something stupid, but before he could, a shadow fell over us.

"Whats going on here?" rumbled Hagrid.

Malfoy's sneer deepend and he turned, probably to make a rude comment, only to stop and pale. Frankly, I can't blame him. The hulking Roegadyn was wearing a set of heavy looking armour and had a rather large bardiche slung over his back. Even an arrogant Pureblood wouldn't want to piss of someone as large as Hagrid when they had an axe that size within easy reach, even more so when you consider that he was easily within range to take Malfoy's head off if he so desired.

"N-nothing," said Malfoy quickly and booked a hasty retreat.

"Tch, damn brat needs to be keelhauled," grumbled Hagrid as he nodded to us and stumped in the direction of the Staff table.

"Well, that was bracing," I said as I turned back to breakfast.

"Thanks," said Neville.

"Don't mention it, happy to help," I said.

* * *

At three-thirty that afternoon, I joined my fellow Ravenclaws as we hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, perfect for flying. The other houses were already present, stood at the two lines of broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. I'd heard some of the upper years complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

We took our places as the teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk that I had to wonder if were from her Animagus form or something.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

The class hurried to obey.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'" Said Hooch

"UP!" everyone shouted.

The broom immediately jumped into my hand and I got an image of a big, floppy eared dog, panting up at me and begging for a treat. I couldn't help but snort at the image. I was one of the few who managed it on the first try. Hermione's just rolled over, Nevilles remained perfectly still, Rons smacked him in the face, Pansy Parkinson got her skirt flipped and Malfoy got smacked in the balls. It took me until Hooch got the chaos sorted out to regain control over my laughter at the look on Malfoys face.

Once everyone had their brooms in their hands, Hooch moved up and down the line, showing us how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end while walking up and down, correcting their grips.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two —"

Neville, who, despite the increase in confidence, still wasn't really happy with the idea of flying, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle, twelve feet, twenty feet.

I quickly pulled out my wand as Neville started to slip, but before I could even think about casting something, the world distorted and Neville somehow fell about six inches to the ground, twenty feet below him. I glanced over at Hermione, who was putting her Grimoire away with a smug look on her face. Hooch quickly shook off her shock at the odd occurence and hurried over to check on the shaken boy.

"Are you alright Mr Longbottom?" she asked.

Neville nodded shakily as the teacher helped him to his feet.

"Hmm, well, just to be safe, I think it would be best if you pay Madam Pomfrey a visit," said the teacher, "Come along."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville shakily headed off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

About half the Slytherins joined in while the rest just rolled their eyes and turned to talk amongst themselves.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass, "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The crystal pendent glittered in the sun as he held it up. I scowled and stepped forwards. That was cruel when it was just the Remembrall, but to steal and hide something like a family heirloom...Malfoy would be lucky if Madam Longbottom didn't demand satisfaction if she found out.

"Give that here, Malfoy," I said quietly.

Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

"Don't be childish Draco," said Daphne.

"Stay out of this Greengrass," snapped Malfoy, "This is between Potter and me."

He jumped onto his broom and took off, flying up to the top of a nearby oak

"Come and get it, Potter!" he shouted.

I sighed.

"Here, hold this a sec," I said, handing Hermione my broom.

Hermione took the broom without a word and I pulled out my wand.

" **Blizzard,"** I said, pointing my wand at Malfoy.

Instantly, the broom froze, making the blond yelp in pain and instinctively release the shaft. Naturally, he immediately lost his balance and slipped off the broom. It was only the branches of the tree that saved him from a serious injury, but he was still scratched up when he landed at my feet in a heap. I bent down and plucked the pendent from his fingers.

"You are a complete idiot Malfoy," I said, "I take it you don't know that this is a Longbottom heirloom?"

Malfoy, who had been about to say something, went the colour of off milk.

"I'll take that as a no," I said, "Please remember this the next time you decided to go around stealing things."

I walked back over to where Hermione was standing, slipping the pendent into my pocket as I did.

"You know hes not going to take that lying down, right?" she asked.

"Of course," I said, "But I'm confident I can take him."

Hermione sighed.

"Fine, I guess you have a point," she grumbled, "I wonder how long it'll take him to convince himself hes in the right and you need to be taken down a peg?"

I grunted.

"My money's on breakfast tomorrow," I said.

"Ten knuts says he'll do it tonight," said Hermione with a smirk.

"Deal," I said as the bell rang and everyone headed back inside for our next lesson.

 **...and of course, after posting a chapter stating that updates will likely be slow, I get two done in a day. Well, one and a half technically, but whatever. Anyway, onto the AN!**

 **I need Neville to get both a confidence boost and a serious feeling of owing Harry a big favour for events coming up, which is the main reason I had Harry point out that he needed a Wand of his own. You might be able to guess what I have in mind from Neville's new bit of bling.**

 **Obviously, levels aren't really a thing, but most of the Job/Classes measure the students abilities by what spells they've mastered. Currently, Harry and Hermione are at about level 4, although they'll likely quickly jump up in ranks, especially Hermione since she's actually got a teacher.**

 **And with that, I'm done. Don't forget to leave a review!**


	7. Chapter 7

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **And here we go with some more bullshit. Enjoy!**

Chapter 7

Unfortunately for me, Malfoy was apparently even more lacking in brains than I thought and it only took until dinner time for him to do something stupid.

"You think you're so good, don't you Potter," sneered Malfoy, "I bet you wouldn't stand a chance against a real Wizard!"

I snorted.

"Malfoy, piss of," I said, "I honestly don't give a rats ass what a coward like you whose only brave with your little friends around thinks about me."

Malfoy scowled.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," he snarled, "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only, no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Actually, I have, casually," I said, "I also know that, as the challenged party, I have the right to chose the time and place."

Malfoy went the colour of gone off milk.

"So, if we're gonna do this, it'll be here and now," I said, resting my chin on my fist as I smirked at the blond pest.

I watched in no small amusement as I saw a number of interesting expressions cross Malfoys face. It was evident that he hadn't expected me to know anything about Duels when he made the challenge. He also hadn't really thought it through, making the challenge in a public place as I had deliberately raised my voice so the Gryffindors around us could here, attracting more attention as the whispers spread. That basically meant that Malfoy had one of two choices. He could apologize and withdraw his challenge, but that could make him look like a coward since he was the one who issued the challenge in the first place, or he could go through with it and risk losing to me. Since I was a Half-blood and from a Muggle home, that would be a huge blow to the Malfoy pride and their standing among the Dark families who actually give a shit about Blood Purity.

Going from what I knew about Malfoy from Canon, Fanfictions and what I had observed of him so far, there was no way he'd risk losing face, even if it was just perceived and he likely thought there was no way I could beat him since I was, according to his beliefs, an inferior Wizard. Heres the thing though. While I wouldn't say that Malfoy was an idiot or a bad student, he was just average. I on the other hand, was one of the top students in the year and I had done a ton of extracurricular reading. Admittedly, he likely knew more nasty curses than I did, but I could use the spells I knew in a far more inventive way than him.

"Whats going on here?" asked Mcgonagall as she walked over.

"Malfoy challenged me to a duel and I agreed," I said before Malfoy could say anything, "I was just about to go and ask Professor Dumbledore if he could provide a Strip for us to use."

Mcgonagall looked surprised and her lips thinned. She didn't say anything however and instead marched of to the head table, no doubt to relay the message. I sighed and slapped a handful of coins into Hermione's hand.

"Yeah yeah, I know, I should have seen it coming," I grumbled, "Now you've won that, want to be my Second?"

"A chance to kick Malfoy's arse legally?" she asked with a catty smirk, "Gladly."

"Shame we don't have a Tank really," I muttered, "It'd be nice to do this properly…"

"You mean a full on Party Battle?" asked Hermione, "You do know that if we did that, the idiots would be dead in moments, right?"

"Your point?"

"Good point."

I glanced up at the Staff table and saw Dumbledore, Flitwick and Mcgonagall whispering heatedly together. As if sensing my gaze, Flitwick glanced up and, upon seeing that I was looking their way, beckoned for me to join them. I stood and headed up to the head of the room. As I approached, Dumbledore smiled, his eyes a twinkle. I made sure to focus on his overly long nose instead of said eyes, but that didn't stop me from noticing the ever so slight frown he pulled as I did.

"Ah, Harry my boy, Professor Mcgonagall tells me that you and Mr Malfoy have had a slight disagreement," he said.

"No, he challenged me to a duel and I accepted," I said, "Its well within our rights to do so."

"True, but is it really necessary?" asked Dumbledore, "I'm sure that all this can be smoothed over with an apology."

"For what?" I asked, "I've done nothing wrong and Malfoy was the one who issued the challenge. If he withdraws the challenge, I'll let this go, but I won't apologize for nothing."

"Now Harry…" said Dumbledore.

"Whats the hold up?" demanded Malfoy as he approached with Snape.

It looked like he'd grown some balls and decided that he'd be able to beat me. Dumbledore looked like he'd swallowed a lemon as he realized he wouldn't be able to stop the duel.

"Very well," he said and stood, "Attention students, I apologize for interrupting your dinner, but it appears that we have a duel between Harry and Mr Malfoy."

A buzz of chatter filled the hall as the Headmaster waved his wand, causing the room to expand and a section of the stone floor to rise up, creating a regulation sized dueling strip. Once the stone stopped moving, I felt multiple Wards snap into place.

"Now, who shall be their seconds?" said Flitwick, apparently taking charge.

"I will," said Hermione before anyone else could try and stand.

Goyle stepped forwards to stand by Malfoy. Flitwick nodded as the two stepped up to stand with Malfoy and I.

"Very well, in that case, take your positions," said the Lalafell.

"Before we begin Professor, I would like to confirm that Thaumaturgy, Conjurey and Arcanium are allowed," I said.

"Of course, that goes without saying," said Flitwick with a slight smirk, "As with all official duels, the only banned Magics are the Unforgivables and any that would result in instant death or cause mass destruction."

I smirked as I stepped up on the Strip with Hermione behind me, already scribbling in her Grimoire in preparation to Summon a Carbuncle.

"As a ICW recognized Master of Dueling and former Captain of the Immortal Flames, I shall be the referee," said Flitwick, "I expect you both to show your opponent the respect he deserves. Since we don't want any deaths, this duel will be to incapacitation or forfeit. Do you both understand?"

"Yes sir," I said.

"Yes yes, get on with it," said Malfoy.

"In that case, begin!"

Immediately, Malfoy and Goyle went on the offencive with a barrage of spells that would have impressed me if I couldn't feel how quickly they were draining their stamina. It was apparent that they just intended to overwhelm us with sheer volume of spells.

I sighed and waved a hand, summoning a wall of stone from the ground, just in time to block the spells. At the same time, Hermione finished her Spell and the Emerald Carbuncle appeared at her heels.

"Ready?" I asked.

Hermione gave me a flat look. I chuckled and waved my wand, causing the wall to shatter.

" **Stone."**

The shards of stone quickly compressed together into a large boulder that was flung at the Slytherins, making both yelp and dive out of the way, not that that really helped as Hermione and her Carbuncle opened fire with spells of their own. A moment later, I added my own spell in the form of a blast of teal coloured wind. The Gust, Aero and Ruin spells collided with the two Slytherins and exploded. Fortunately, it was mostly just force and smoke, although it did knock the two idiots out of the ring.

"Winner, Mr Potter and Miss Granger," said Flitwick, "Very impressive you two. Its been awhile since I've seen Magic used like that. I'm looking forwards to seeing what you two manage in the future."

"Thanks Professor," I said.

Flitwick nodded and started shoeing the chattering students out of the Hall. I ignored the looks I was getting as I turned to Hermione, who was cradling her Carbuncle in her arms.

"Thanks for the help," I said.

"Don't mention it," she said, "I was happy to do it. Now, if you'll excuse me, its time for my lesson with Master."

She turned and hurried out of the hall.

"Another lesson?" asked Neville as he stepped up beside me.

"I think she means with K'rhid," I said.

"Fair enough," said Neville, "Um, sorry."

I gave him a look.

"What for?" I asked.

"It was my fault you got dragged into the fight," he said.

I snorted.

"Hardly, it was really only a matter of time before Malfoy did something that would result in me giving him a beat down in one way or another," I said.

"Still, I feel like I should have helped," muttered Neville, gripping his pendent, "You got this back for me, helped me with my problems and been the best friend I've ever had. I owe you a lot and I'd like to pay you back somehow."

I smiled and patted the young Lion on the back.

"Nev, your my friend," I said, "I'm always happy to help you. You don't owe me anything."

I smiled again, before leaving the Hall to head up to the Common Room. I had homework to finish.

* * *

Neville sighed as he slumped in the chair closest to the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. He knew he should be in bed, but his mind wouldn't stop swirling. Despite Harry's assurances that he didn't need to pay the other boy back, his personal honour was demanding that he try to do... _something_ to do just that. Harry had quite literally given him more than anyone had for as long as he could remember. That said, what could he do? Sure, he was powerful and had a lot of raw Magic at his disposal, but it was abundantly clear that power wasn't something Harry was lacking and neither was Hermione. The two were a formidable team as well and Neville had no doubt that both would go far. No, he needed more than raw power. He needed something more, something that would allow him to fight beside his friends in any future battles. The question was, what?

Neville was so focused on his musings that he completely missed the faint glow that was coming from the pendent around his neck, as well as the calculating look he was getting from the painting above the mantelpiece. The painting was inhabited by a hulking Hellguard Roegadyn with dark red skin and a thick beard and mane of hair that was a few shades darker. His yellow eyes were stern and fierce which, combined with his heavy looking, white and silver armour, not to mention the massive sword and shield he was leaning against, made him look extremely intimidating.

Eventually, Neville fell asleep, leaving the painting the only thing awake in the room.

"Interesting," murmured the painting, "Its been a long time since I've seen a soul like this one. I think he will require watching closely for a while. Who knows, perhaps my old Crystal will resonate once more."

The Knight shifted, causing the red pendent around his neck to catch the false light the artist had so skillfully recreated, matching the faint light coming from the crystal Neville was wearing.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was worried. Ever since the start of the year, he'd been keeping an eye on one Harry Potter and he didn't like what he saw. When the old geezer had put young Harry with his family, it had been his intention that he grow up ignorant of the Wizarding World. He had wanted to instil in the young Potter a feeling that the Wizarding World was some kind of paradise that needed to be protected, thus fostering a greater willingness to sacrifice himself for it. After all, according to the prophecy, it was only through Harrys sacrifice that Voldemort could be defeated. It was a shame, but it had to be done.

Unfortunately, that plan had fallen through. He was sure that the Dursleys would do everything they could to keep the letter away from Harry, thus allowing him to send Hagrid to collect him and start the process of making the boy believe that Dumbledore was a great man who needed to be listened to, not to mention making the boy curious about the Stone. However, he had somehow managed to get to the Alley and do his shopping alone, a fact he'd found out after Ollivander wrote to him about the Wand Harry had acquired. Dumbledore had nearly had a heart attack when he'd discovered that Harry hadn't received the Brother wand to Voldemort. However, that was a minor issue.

What wasn't a minor issue was the fact that his main spy, Ronald Weasley, had completely failed to make friends with young Harry. Instead, he was friends with Neville Longbottom, a boy he considered to be a possible replacement if anything happened to Harry, and Hermione Granger, a girl who honestly confused him. She was apparently a Muggleborn and yet she'd ended up in Slytherin, something that was utterly unheard of. Then there was the Hats claim that she was the most qualified Slytherin in years, a statement the animated bit of fabric refused to elaborate on. It certainly didn't help that the name Granger was familiar. He was sure he knew of someone important by that name, but for the life of him he couldn't remember who.

After a moments thought, he brushed off the issue. It not like a Muggle could be that important to the Wizarding world after all. Instead, he reached into his most secure draw and pulled out the object he'd been studying for the past ten years, ever since he'd found it in possession of Harry Potter on the night he'd left the boy on his Aunts doorstep. He had no idea just how the Potters had got their hands on a Philosopher's Stone, although he knew that Lily had been learning under Flamal. That said, he wasn't sure why the old Alchemist would gift Lily with the knowledge to create a Stone, or even just given her one himself, and not him. After all, he needed the knowledge for the Greater Good!

Unfortunately, despite extensive research and studying of the stone, the only thing he'd been able to discover was the fact it was practically indestructible. He had no idea how it worked, meaning it was currently a very pretty paperweight. That said, it was a handy bit of bait for Tom so he could properly test Harrys potential. He just needed to wait for the traps to be finished and the Mirror he ordered from Black Ironworks to arrive so he could put the finishing touches to his plan.

 **And done. Well, that was fun. Just to be perfectly clear, not all of Harry's fights in the future will be so easy. In fact, the Voldemort that will be appearing in this story will be the most dangerous and powerful I've ever used.**

 **I may have made my plans for Neville a bit too obvious here...oh well.**

 **Yeah, another manipulative Dumbledore, but I really don't like the ass. He's also not as smart as he thinks he is and not just because of the onset of senility. That said, I wonder why the name Granger is so familiar to him? Could Hermione's parents have something to do with the Wizarding World? And I wonder how important Black Ironworks will be to the story?**

 **Speaking of Hermione, I will be genuinely surprised if anyone figures out who I have in mind for her Father. At the risk of making it blatantly obvious, hes where she got her brains from and hes not a dentist. Hes actually quite the enterprising man.**

 **Now I'm done with the nods and winks, I'm going to sign out. Don't forget to leave a review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **WHOO, WE'RE BACK! I recently had an epiphany regarding this story and my muse is back on track, so we'll see how long that lasts. Oh, and I made a couple of minor changes to the a couple of the old chapters. Nothing major, so you don't need to go back and read them if you don't want to. Enjoy!**

Chapter 8

Following the 'duel', if it can even be called that, things mostly went back to being quiet and before I knew it, Halloween had rolled around. Well, there was one moment where I somehow ended up outside the Forbidden Corridor, but I didn't bother going for a look. I didn't feel like dealing with Fluffy and I was running late anyway. I also had to deal with my housemates badgering me about my showing, but directing them to the right books got them off my case.

Anyway, on Halloween, I was enjoying my lunch when a rather annoyed looking Hermione dropped into the seat across from me with an amused looking Neville beside her.

"Damn that annoying brat!" yelled the Arcanist.

"Problem?" I asked.

"She was partnered up with Ronauld," said Neville.

I blinked.

"Whose bright idea was that?"

"Not a clue," said Neville, "But you can imagine what the result was."

I glanced at Hermione, who was scribbling in a notebook and muttering to herself.

"Yeah, I can," I said, "I just hope she doesn't decide to seek revenge with one of her drawings."

"Hey, you can't say he doesn't deserve it," said Neville.

I conceded the point.

* * *

"So, are you two looking forwards to the Halloween feast?" asked Neville later as we worked on homework in the library

I frowned.

"Not really," I said, "In fact, I'm skipping it."

Neville winced.

"Oh yeah, sorry," he said.

"I think I'll join you," said Hermione, "I don't fancy spending my evening eating sugary snacks and putting up with brats on a sugar rush."

Neville looked rather torn as he glanced at the clock on the wall, a clock that clearly showed that the feast would be starting soon.

"You don't have to skip it with us Neville," I said, "You go if you want."

Neville hesitated.

"Seriously Nev, you go have fun," I said, "Besides, we'll have to go anyway. Pince is looking like shes about to bodily toss us out."

Neville nodded hesitantly as we gathered all our stuff and left under the Librarians beady eye.

"Are you sure…"

"GO!" Hermione and I yelled.

Neville yelped and took off down the hall. I sighed and ran my hand over my face as I lent against the wall.

"Are you OK?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, "Its just...you just know that there are countless people in the country Celebrating Voldemort's defeat tonight. I get why they're doing it, but it feels like their also celebrating my parents death."

Hermione patted me on the shoulder. I gave a wan smile and we headed off to find somewhere to hang out in peace.

* * *

Neville

Neville sighed as he stared at the ever-impressive feast laid out before him that his classmates were eagerly partaking of. It looked delicious, with far more sugar than his Grandmother would ever allow him to have at home, but for some reason he just didn't have any appetite. Actually, he knew the reason. He understood why Harry didn't wanted to attend the feast and now felt rather guilty about leaving his friend to indulge himself.

"Are you OK Neville?" asked Dean Thomas, who was sitting across from him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Neville, "I guess I just don't have much of an appetite."

He sighed and got to his feet.

"I'm gonna head back to the dorm," he said, "I'll see you guys…"

He was cut off as the door slammed open and a panicked looking Quirral came sprinting in.

"TROLL!" he screamed, "TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON!"

Silence fell as everyone stared at him.

"Thought you ought to know," he said weakly and collapsed.

"Oh no," muttered Neville, right before everyone started screaming and panicking.

Several loud purple firecrackers from Dumbledores wand quickly stopped the panic however.

"Everyone please, don't panic," he said, "Now, Prefects, guide your housemates to the dormitories. Teachers shall accompany me to the dungeon."

Neville ignored the order and Percy's attempts to corral the Gryffindors. All he could think about was the fact that his friends had no idea about the Troll. He doubted either of them were in the dungeons, but they still needed to know, just in case. He sprinted out the door, using the hurrying Hufflepuffs as cover, and sprinted towards the stairs in the direction of the classroom on the third floor he and his friends often used. If Harry and Hermione were anywhere, it would be there.

* * *

He had just reached the floor in question, gasping for breath and yet unwilling to stop, when a loud crash made his stomach drop into his shoes. He took off again, once again running as fast as he could. He wouldn't let his friends down! Even if he couldn't do anything but distract the monster, he wouldn't let them fight it alone! He was so focused on getting to his friends that he completely missed the way the pendent he was wearing was beginning to glow.

Neville followed the crashes, roars and, as he got closer, loud curses, barely noticing the foul smell that only grew as he got closer, until he finally skidded around a corner and found himself staring at the scene he was dreading. The Troll had found Harry and Hermione and the duo were on the ropes, struggling to keep it at arms length for long enough to actually get a spell off. Unfortunately, while they were more powerful than normal Wanded Magic, Black and White magic and Arcanium all required some time to pull off, something that was difficult to get when under attack from a 12 foot tall monster that stank of rotten feet.

Neville swallowed, suddenly not entirely sure of his plan. Sure, it sounded good, but now that he found himself looking at the beast, he wasn't so sure that he could actually do anything. Wanded Magic wouldn't do more than tickle the Troll, even with his impressive power. He looked around desperately for something, anything, that could help. His eyes fell on a suit of armour that had been knocked over, spilling metal everywhere, including a sword and shield that had somehow ended up exactly at his feet. Despite himself, Neville found himself for some reason entranced by the gleaming metal and he reached for them.

A loud crash made his head snap up, just in time to see Harry, who had grabbed a Rapiar from another shattered suit of armour at some point, barely dodge a blow from the Trolls club. It passed so close to the green eyed boy that his hair was blown back and he stumbled, tripping over another bit of armour and landing on his ass. The Troll roared in triumph and raised its club again.

That was to much for Neville and he shoved down his fear, snatched up the shield and sword and charged.

"HEY, OVER HERE!" he yelled as he skidded to a stop behind the Troll and rammed the sword blade into the back of its knee.

The Troll roared in pain and fury, completely forgetting about Harry in favour of taking a swipe at its attacker. Neville jumped out of the way with impressive agility he didn't have before.

"Wha...NEVILLE!" yelped Harry, "What are you doing?! Get away!"

"Not this time Harry!" shouted Neville, "I won't let you fight alone, not again! Your my friend and I will not leave you!"

With that declaration, the pendent around Nevilles neck lit up like a brilliant star and something flowed into him, burning like fire and bringing strength and an indomitable will. For a brief moment, Harry and Hermione saw two figures superimposed over their friend, both wearing gleaming armour and wielding a sword and shield. The Troll let out a roar of challenge and swung its club.

CLANG!

Much to the surprise of all present, Neville somehow blocked the blow on his shield, the ground below his feet cracking from the force, before he shoved the club to one side and countered, his sword biting deep into the Trolls flesh. The Troll roared again and kicked out, sending Neville skidding back to where his friends were both gaping at him. Harry blinked and shook off his shock as a smirk snuck across his lips.

"Well, when you put it like that," he said as he got to his feet and stepped up beside his friend, "I guess we should end this."

"I can get behind that," said Hermione with a cat-like smirk of her own, stepping up on Nevilles other side as her Carbuncle appeared in a flash of light, "You take point Neville, we'll back you up."

Neville grinned and nodded as the Troll picked its club back up, glowering at them.

"LETS GO!" yelled all three friends as the Troll roared in challenge.

 **(Play your favorite FF boss battle theme)**

Neville pushed off, inwardly marveling at how powerful he felt all of a sudden. He could literally feel his Magic flowing through him, increasing his strength by a massive amount. His body moved with far more suraty than it should, as if he'd been wielding the weapons in his hands for his entire life, rather than all of two minutes. Not only that, but there was no fear, despite the fact he was about to fight a Mountain Troll in what amounted to hand to hand. He trusted in his Party implicitly, even without their lack of a dedicated Healer. Against something like a Mountain Troll, a full party was complete overkill anyway.

The thoughts were thrown from his mind a moment later as he instinctively lifted his shield to catch the Trolls opening attack, jaring his arm slightly before a flare of green light washed away the pain. His sword flashed, dealing superficial cuts as Hermione and her Carbuncle opened up with their own attacks, their magical bolts causing far more damage than his attacks, accompanied by the occasional attack from Harry, who had apparently taken the role of Healer for the moment.

Considering how much power the three could bring to bare when compared with the capabilities of the Troll, it didn't take long for the Beasts attacks to begin to slow as more and more blood began to pour from its injuries until, finally, it couldn't take any more and collapsed, forcing Neville to jump back

 **(You know the tune. End theme)**

The three friends stood still for a moment, staring at the still body of the Troll, before exactly what had happened suddenly hit Neville full force and all the strength fled from his limbs. He collapsed, the sword and shield clattering from his grip as he started shaking, breathing heavily.

"Oh god, what was that?" he gasped.

"I have no idea, but you sure make a good Tank," said Harry as he dropped down to sit beside him, face flushed, but grinning widely, "Hermione?"

"Not sure, but it'll make an interesting research project," she said, her own mile wide grin in place, "That was fun though!"

Neville looked between the two in disbelief for a moment, before he burst out laughing.

"You two are insane!" he gasped out between guffaws.

"Whats your point?" asked both Harry and Hermione at the same time.

The two looked at each other, before they burst out laughing to.

"What is going on here?!"

The sudden voice cut through the laughter and the Trio turned to see a pale and wide eyed looking Mcgonagall, Dumbledore and Quirrell stood a short distance away.

"Oh hey, you're late!" said Harry, "We've already finished here!"

Mcgonagall's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. Neville gulped slightly, already knowing that this wasn't going to be pleasant. Still...he glanced at the dead Troll and smiled slightly.

It was totally worth it.

* * *

DADA office, shortly after

"DAMN IT ALL!" screamed Quirrell, throwing a goblet across the room, "We were so damn close! If Severus hadn't shown up…"

" _Yes, it is rather aggravating,"_ said a hissing voice coming from apparently nowhere, making Quirrell pale slightly.

"I-I'm sorry Master, I failed," he whimpered.

" _Yes, you did, but this was not your fault,"_ said the voice, _"I will not punish you for it. This time."_

Quirrell let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you Master," he said, "But what shall we do with Snape?"

" **You shall do nothing."**

Quirrell spun around at the unexpected voice, only to get sent flying by an unseen force and slammed into a wall, held there by an invisible force as his attacker stepped out of the shadows. It was a man, swathed in black, hooded robes with purple markings and spiky, silver armour on his shoulders, gloves hips and gloves. His face was hidden behind a red mask that covered the top half of his face.

" _What is the meaning of this!?"_ spluttered the voice, _"Why are you here Xemnas?"_

" **I am here because you almost tipped your hand far to soon,"** said Xemnas, **"You shall have the Stone, but it has yet to be moved into the Corridor."**

" _I grow tired of this facade!"_ snarled the voice, _"I WILL have the stone, with or without you!"_

Suddenly, the cloaked figure was directly in front of Quirrel, clawed fingers at his throat. The turban wearing teacher let out a squeak of fright.

" **Be very careful how you speak to me Tom Riddle,"** hissed the figure, **"Do not forget who it was who taught you how to bind your Soul to this world. You may have an over inflated sense of self worth, but never forget that to us, you are a mere tool. And tools can be easily replaced, should the need arise."**

The figure stepped back, letting Quirrel fall to the ground, gasping for breath.

" **I will take my leave for now, but do not attempt to act before we tell you to,"** said Xemnas as he turned away, **"I will overlook it this time, but next time I shall not be so lenient."**

Xemnas vanished in a swirl of purple light, leaving Quirrel and Voldemort to recover from the chastisement.

" _Cursed Ascian,"_ hissed Voldemort, _"Just wait. Soon, I will be ready and then you will all suffer. The Wizarding world might think I'm a bad memory and you may think I'm a tool to be used and discarded, but I swear that I shall never be just a memory! I will have my revenge!"_

 **Well, that escalated quickly. Lets start from the top.**

 **It looks like the Party just increased by one, gaining the Tank, a Paladin in Neville. Unlike the other two, he has the benefit of a Soul Stone right from the outset, so he gets some basic skills and a general boost to his leaning in regard to his Class and Job. He'll still need to train to become better though.**

 **Ohhh dear, that's not a good sign. It looks like the Ascians are out in force and causing trouble for whatever reason. And Voldie even works for them! That'll end well. Rest assured, I have no intention of having Voldemort remain a minion. He'll become a far greater threat than any of the Primals and Ascians in the future. That should be fun.**

 **Now, its late here and I really want to go to bed, so I'm gonna sign off. Don't forget to leave a review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!

 **WHOO, WE'RE BACK! My eagerness aside, Enjoy!**

Chapter 9

Surprisingly, we didn't end up being slapped with detention, although Mcgonagall did yell herself horse and slapped all three with large point deductions, which were promptly reversed by Flitwick assigning up double the amount taken. The Lalafell seemed both amused and impressed, although I couldn't blame him. Mountain Trolls are strong and very dangerous opponents at the best of times. Oh sure, most Parties would be able to take down entire groups without trouble, but those would be full parties with plenty of experience and training. We were a slapdash group with no real dedicated healer and a Tank who I'm pretty sure only avoided being squashed through sheer dumb luck and whatever that light was.

Needless to say, there was a fair amount of buzz created by our defeating of the Troll since, as you might expect from knowing anything about the Hogwarts rumor mill, everyone knew 'exactly' what happened by about midday the day after. There were about a dozen stories buzzing around, most of which either contradicted each other, were outright laughable or were so far off base they were on Mars. Not one of the stories was even close to the truth, but no one apparently wanted to ask us what actually happened, probably to intimidated of the three Firsties who beat a Troll.

Still, at least it meant I didn't have to put up with the idiots for a while.

Other than that, the only interesting thing that happened was discovering that this Hagrid either didn't have a pet Cerberus or he was smart enough to not let Dumbledore use it to guard something in a school. Not sure which is more likely in all honesty.

* * *

Eventually, the holidays rolled around and with it, the castle emptied, leaving me almost completely alone in Ravenclaw Tower, with only a couple of upper years working towards NEWTs for company. Neville and Hermione had both headed home as well, so I was all on my lonesome. I intended to use the time working on my skills in the Room of Requirement. Since the fight with the Troll, I'd decided to try and learn how to use a melee weapon, just in case, and had settled on a Rapier because...reasons.

But first, presents!

My first couple were were a book on famous Mages throughout history from Neville and, oddly enough, a book on Magitech from Hermione. Despite not being common in Britain, Magitech was a thing, mostly spearheaded by a company called Black Ironworks, which also happened to be a heavy hirer of Muggleborns who couldn't get jobs elsewhere due to Pureblood interference. I made a mental note to check into them in the future.

Other than them, I also got a Weasley jumped and some fudge from Mrs Weasley because of...reasons I guess? I wasn't going to trust that the fudge wasn't stuffed with potions considering the complete lack of reason for her to send me anything and tossed the Fudge out the window and the jumper in the fire. It was god damn hideous.

Finally, I came to the thing I'd been looking forwards to, the Invisibility Cloak. Sure enough, it was indeed among the few gifts under the tree, complete with note from Dumbledore and a laundry list of tracking charms, among other spells that I'm pretty sure weren't meant to be there. I made short work of them all, muttering to myself in irritation as I did.

The only one I left on was a compulsion charm that seemed to be leading to somewhere inside the castle. My best guess was that it was tied to the Mirror and I was rather curious as to what I'd see.

* * *

After dinner (which was gorgeous and a hell of a lot of fun, although Ron did keep shooting me smug looks throughout it and seemed rather angry when I completely ignored him. Guess I might have been right on the money about the potions. Maybe I should have tried to figure out what was in it…), I waited until lights out, wrapped myself in my Cloak and headed out, letting the Compulsion lead me through the halls, past the Library and into an area of the castle that wasn't in use. Eventually, I reached an apparently random classroom, where I found the Mirror. I absently flicked my wand to dispel the last Compulsion as I slipped out from under the Cloak and stepped up to the Mirror. A moment later, my jaw dropped.

The image reflected back at me was much more detailed than I expected and consisted of Neville, Hermione and I, along with a short girl with blond hair and a blurred out face in the robes of a White Mage in an old looking room made of stone, all looking older and wearing equipment clearly meant for serious Adventurers. In the background stood Sirius, Remus and my Mother, all watching the argument with clear amusement. There were other individuals around the room, all engaged in the activities of Adventures between Quests, such as maintaining gear or eating. All of them looked strangely familiar, but had their faces blurred out. Well...that was certainly interesting, although not completely unexpected when I thought about it. It was basically the idea of me and my friends being able to work and fight together, without any risk of Voldemort or Dumbledore getting in the way. Speaking of which…

"You know, its rude to spy on People Headmaster," I said.

I didn't actually know if he was there or not, this was more a test. I hid a smirk as I heard a startled intake of breath.

"Good evening Harry," said Dumbledore as he dropped his Invisibility spell, "May I ask how you knew I was there?"

"Lucky guess," I said, turning away from the mirror.

"I see," said Dumbledore with a slight frown, "So, what do you think of the delights of the Mirror of Erised?"

"I think its a nice party trick, but not that useful," I said.

"Then I assume you have figured out what it does?" he asked.

"It shows ones deepest desire," I said, "Its not that hard considering it says just that up there."

I pointed at the inscription on the frame.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, "You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

My eyebrows shot up at Dumbles assumption that I'd see my family as if I had no other desires. True, the Potters were there, but I think it was more symbolic of me getting out of their shadows than anything. I didn't correct him though. Let the crazy old man keep his little delusions for a while longer. I did comment on the latter part though.

"I think that says more about the Wizarding World than you might think," I said.

Dumbledore shot me a curious look.

"Why's that Harry?" he asked.

"Because, instead of attempting to make their dreams come true, they decided to remain here and die," I said, "Thats the choice of a weakling with no resolve. I have no intention of allowing my desires to remain a dream."

"No magic can reawaken the Dead Harry," said Dumbledore gently.

"I know that," I said, "But there are other, much more fun, ways to make a family."

I grinned at the old man as he looked scandalized.

"Now, its late and I'm going to bed," I said, "Goodnight Headmaster."

As I turned to leave, I brushed up against the old man and immediately felt light headed. I stumbled slightly, my hand going to my head as it began to spin. I vaguely heard Dumbledore call my name as if through deep water, before my vision blurred and everything went black.

* * *

 _A moment later, my vision came back, but not in the Mirror room or strapped to a table to be forcefully reprogrammed or something. Instead, I found myself stood in a room that I immediately recognized as my nursery on the night of the Attack, complete with my Mothers corpse on the floor and the past me sleeping with blood running down his face. My vision was oddly washed out and fuzzy, as if I was watching in on a TV with bad reception._

 _"Whats going on?" I muttered._

 _Instead of an answer, the door opened and Dumbledore entered, wand out and ready. When he saw the pile of ash and robes that was all that remained of Voldemort, he relaxed, although he tensed slightly when he saw Mum on the floor._

 _"Oh Tom, what did you do?" he breathed._

 _He moved further into the room, idly stepping over my Mothers body without a second thought as he approached my crib. I took a deep breath and resisted the urge to try and punch the bastard. Looks like this Dumbledore was a damn hypocrite, in addition to being a MOB. He looked down at young me in my Crib for a moment, before he turned away and started waving his wand. After a few moments, he stopped and sighed._

 _"So, you really did it," he muttered, "Oh Tom, you could have been such a great force for the Light. Why did you have to fall so far? What made you stray from the path?"_

 _"YOU, YOU STUPID GIT!" I yelled, even though I knew it was pointless._

 _Dumbledore sighed again and turned back to me._

 _"And I can't even use you," said the old man, "A Potter as the Leader of the Light would be a great boon, but alas, you are fated to die…"_

 _I scowled as my fingers twitched slightly. I really wanted to punch the bastard now. Dumbledore reached down and picked me up, dislodging the crystal pendent Mum had put around my neck, causing it to catch the light and Dumbledores eye. At the sight of it, his eyes widened and he grabbed it._

 _"Wha...how did Lily get this?" he breathed, "I knew she'd learnt under Nicholas, but why would he give her the secret?"_

 _He scowled and removed the pendent, slipping it into his pocket._

 _"Well, no matter, now I have all I need," he said, "Now, all I need to do is…"_

 _He was cut off by the door slamming open and Sirius barging into the room, looking frantic. At the sight of me in Dumbledores arms, he relaxed and gave a sigh of relief, although he still looked like he was going to pass out._

 _"Thank god," he said, "At least Harry's safe."_

 _He glanced at Lily's body and winced._

 _"Lily...James, I'm sorry," he muttered, "I shouldnt have…"_

 _He shook his head and visibly pulled himself together._

 _"Dumbledore, we need to get Harry away," he said, stepping forwards, "Give him to me, I'll take him somewhere safe."_

 _Dumbledore eyed Sirius for a moment, before he sighed sadly._

 _"I'm sorry Sirius, but that can't happen," he said, "Harry has a Destiny and he cannot meet it with you."_

 _Sirius stared at him for a moment in utter shock and I wasn't much better._

 _"What are you…" started Sirius, but was cut off by Dumbledore suddenly whipping his wand out._

 _There was a flash of light and Sirius' face went slack._

 _"Now, why don't you go and stop Peter?" said Dumbledore._

 _Sirius' face cleared and immediately twisted into an expression of rage._

 _"That rat!" he snarled, "This is his fault! I'll kill him!"_

 _He spun around and ran out of the door, not even giving Dumbledore and I a second glance. Dumbledore sighed again and shook his head._

 _"I'm sorry Sirius my boy," he said, "But it must be done."_

 _He turned to leave and the vision flickered and vanished._

* * *

I found myself stood back in the Mirror room with a hand pressed to my forehead as I continued the stumble, catching myself before I could fall. Despite the perceived length of the vision, it looked like it had taken less than a second.

A hand on my shoulder made me jump and spin around to see a concerned looking Dumbledore stood beside me. It took everything I had not to fire the strongest fireball I could straight into his wrinkled old face.

"Are you alright my boy?" he asked.

I shoved down the urge to either vomit or kill the bastard.

"I'm fine," I said, "Just...tired. I should go, its late."

"Alright, goodnight my boy," said the old man.

I left the room, moving rather stiffly as I desperately wrestled with the fury I could feel boiling in my chest. I'd suspected that this Dumbledore was a bad one, but that vision...that had basically confirmed that he was the very worst type. He wasn't truly evil in the same way that he could be, instead he was evil in denile. Every action he took, every bit of harm inflicted he felt sorry for, couching it in the ideal of the Greater Good, a philosophy that could and would drive him to commit atrocities far more horrific than if he was simply evil in disguise.

* * *

Eventually, my rage began to cool, allowing me to slow and relax. I came to a stop and lent against the wall, pressing my forehead to the cool stone as I stared blankly out the window in front of me. I was still angry and had every intention of taking Dumbledore down and revealing him for the monster he was, but that would take time. I wasn't strong enough as I was and I'd need evidence.

More than that though, my mind went to the strange vision I'd had. Where had it come from? Some kind of connection? No, that didn't make any sense. How could I have a connection with Dumbledore like that? As far as I knew, I wasn't even a Horcrux, the lack of headaches around Quirrelmort being a pretty big indicator of that, so where did…

I jerked back suddenly as my mind suddenly made an abrupt and rather unexpected connection. I'd seen a vision of Dumbledores past, with no indication that he'd noticed. I suppose it could have been some form of natural Legilimency that had somehow activated, but I highly doubted that someone like Dumbledore had less than perfect Occlumency shields, so he'd likely have sensed me at the very least. That, combined with the existence of an awful lot of stuff from FFXIV meant that the most logical conclusion I could come to with the facts available to me was that I somehow had the Echo. That...had some rather uncomfortable implications.

Until now, I hadn't really put much thought into the existence of Lalafell, Miqo'te and Roegadyn, Final Fantasy style magic and Jobs and the other bits and pieces I'd noticed and what it implied. However, faced with the existence of the Echo, I had to wonder what else existed. Did the Primals? Or worse, the Ascians?

I swallowed and pushed off the wall. I'd need to do some research into this. If the Primals or worse did exist, I did NOT want the first I knew about it to be facing down Ifrit or something. That was a good way to get roasted. However, I hadn't been lying when I said I was tired earlier. Time to hit the sack. I hope these thoughts don't give me nightmares.

 **And done. Well, that was fun.**

 **Yes, Harry does indeed have the Echo and it will be rather helpful in the future. Well, as helpful as any uncontrollable power can be.**

 **Ohh dear, Dumbledore has no idea how boned he really is. He'll be dealt with in time. Unfortunately, hes too strong to deal with permanently just yet, both magically and politically.**

 **As for Sirius, he'll be getting out of prison soon enough.**

 **And with that, its time to sign out. Until next time, don't forget to leave a review!**


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